Return to Prince Manor
by Snapegirlkmf
Summary: A new year means new perils and friendships for Harry, as he faces the Triwizard Tournament, a vengeful Dark Lord's return, and must try and master the secrets of Prince Manor. Can his family and friends help him succeed? Sequel to Heir to Prince Manor!
1. The Dark Guardian

This is the link for the first story in the Prince Manor series, The Heir to Prince Manor .net/s/4258857/1/

**A/N: This is the long-awaited sequel to my novel Heir to Prince Manor! I hope it's worth the wait!**

**Please read or skim that first or else you will be totally lost, thanks!**

**Also includes an OC by Lady Julie Snape-Philip Anthony Snape, who will be an important supporting character in this story since she was the 701st reviewer for my story Arms of a Dark Angel, as promised.**

**And now, welcome to the world of Prince Manor!**

**Return to Prince Manor**

**1**

**Dark Guardian**

_Hogwarts Express_

_Sept. 1st, 1994_

"After the Malfoys were arrested for the first time, the Ministry sent Draco to an orphanage," Harry told a rapt Hermione and Ron, who wore expressions of shock and disbelief on their faces. He cast a quick glance at the top of Hedwig's cage, where Smidgen, a dreamweaver shimmerling, was curled up asleep. Only Harry could see through the glamour the fae winged cat had placed upon herself, for Harry was the Heir to Prince Manor and in him ran the blood of the fae.

He continued telling his best friends Draco's story over pumpkin juice, butterbeer, pumpkin pasties, and Cauldron Cakes.

"And then my dad made Draco his ward because he was his godfather and Draco needed a guardian so they wouldn't put him in foster care or whatever." Harry explained. He went on to detail how Draco and he had fought like cats and dogs in the beginning, despite Severus's warnings.

"Can't say I blame you one bit, mate," Ron sad sympathetically. "I mean, it's _Malfoy_."

"I would have agreed with you one hundred percent a few months ago, Ron. But that was before I started talking with Draco and stopped fighting with him. I know sometimes he can be a major pain in the arse, but he's not a Death Eater. His dad is, but he's not."

"We know that, Harry, said Hermione calmly, putting a hand on his arm. "We read the coverage of the trial and the way Malfoy . . .Draco . . .rejected his parents and their ways and chose to follow Professor Snape's example."

"Yeah, the twins were there and so was my dad. They told me all about it," Ron admitted. "It's just . . .it seems so weird, thinking of Malfoy as a good guy. I mean, he was such an arse to us in school, you know?"

"I know, Ron. But we all wear masks and sometimes you've got to look beyond them. I know you all thought my dad was a real nasty bugger, but over half of that was a mask to cover his actions as a spy. I learned that over the summer, like I told you. Draco was forced into acting like Lucius's version of a pureblood was supposed to act, but he doesn't really hate Muggleborns," Harry stressed, looking earnestly at Hermione. He hoped the girl was taking what he said to heart and also that his clumsy attempts at getting her to see a different side of Draco weren't going to screw things up even more.

"Are you sure about that, Harry?" Hermione asked, doubt creeping into her voice.

"Yes," Harry said firmly. "Now that he doesn't have to pretend anymore, you'll see a different side of Draco."

"Good. It's about time he started to grow up and quit acting like a bigot," said Hermione, then she turned to pet her new owl, Athena.

"Humph. I'll believe when I see it." Ron snorted.

"Fair enough. All I'm asking is that you give Draco the benefit of the doubt. And don't hold it against me if I happen to defend him once in awhile. After all, he _is_my brother. I know he can be a pain-in-the-arse, but we saved each other's bums a few times over the summer, so cut us some slack. You don't have to be like best mates or anything, just don't badmouth him, all right? He'll be getting enough of that from members of his own House that think he's a traitor. Agreed?"

Ron nodded reluctantly. He couldn't help but marvel at the change Harry had gone through over the summer, not only physically, but emotionally as well. Harry seemed older, wiser, than a mere fourteen-year-old. But then again, what he had endured would have changed anyone, Ron mused. It would take some getting used to, he thought. As would Harry's new position as Snape's son and Draco's brother. He wasn't sure if he liked it, but he would try and tolerate Malfoy for Harry's sake.

Meanwhile, Hermione was trying to figure out who could have sent her the wonderful unexpected gift of her new owl, Athena. "Isn't she just lovely, Harry? I was so shocked when I saw her coming down with a letter for me, and then to read the letter she brought and found out she was meant for _me_. . .it was like getting an unlooked for birthday present," she said, smiling dreamily.

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I know what you mean, Mione. I got Hedwig as a gift from Hagrid for my eleventh birthday and she was the best present I ever got." _Until Severus took me away to live at Prince Manor. I wonder what you'd think if you knew who sent you Athena? Would you be shocked, horrified, or thinking maybe it was a huge mistake? Too bad I can't let you in on the secret, but I promised my brother. _Still, he couldn't resist teasing the girl a bit. "Have you been seeing someone we don't know about over the summer, Hermione?"

"What? No, of course not! I live in a Muggle neighborhood, Harry. No one from school would ever want to visit me," she said wistfully. "That's why I was so surprised when I got Athena. I usually only get letters from Ron and you."

Harry felt a pang of sympathy for his Housemate, he hadn't realized Hermione was feeling lonely and a bit left out of things because of what she was. "Um . . .well, whoever sent you her must really like you then. After all, he went through the trouble of giving you a gift and finding out your address."

"That's true. I just wish he wasn't so . . .mysterious."

"Maybe he's shy," Harry suggested with a smirk. _I'm so lucky Draco's not here right now to hear me say that! I would be hexed into bits and pieces._

But that answer seemed to please Hermione for some reason. Maybe it was easier for a girl to like a boy who was shy? She continued petting Athena and feeding her owl treats.

Ron was doing likewise with his new owl, Zephyr, who had been a belated birthday present from Harry. Harry dug some treats from his pocket and fed Hedwig and Frost, not wanting his two owls to feel left out. As he did so, he surreptitiously slipped a piece of maple sugar candy to Smidgen, who was curled atop Hedwig's cage.

The shimmerling took the treat delicately, purring. :_Thank you, Harry. I think you have done well in settling your friends' minds about your foster brother._:

_I hope so, Smidgen,_ he thought, knowing the shimmerling would hear his thoughts, since she was telepathic. _I'd hate for them to be quarreling endlessly with Draco. Are you thirsty? Do you want to come and sit on my shoulder?_

_:No, I am fine where I am, Harry. But thank you for your consideration, young Snape. I am going to take another nap, for when we arrive at school, I want to be well rested so I can explore.:_

Harry hid a grin behind his hand. The shimmerling's insatiable curiosity was a family joke among them. "Think I'll take a nap," he said aloud, then settled back on the cushion, pillowing his head on his folded robes and closed his eyes, one hand clutching the medallion hidden beneath his shirt. Though Prince Manor was far away, a single touch of the Medallion of Inheritance served to make him feel at home. Both the medallion and his spirit were attuned to Prince Manor, and he allowed the warm cozy pulse of the manor to surround him and together with the soothing motion of the train, rock him to sleep.

In another part of Britain, an old man died in agony from the venom of a giant cobra, who had been unleashed upon him for seeing that which no mortal ever should . . .the return of the necromancer known as Voldemort. The evil sorcerer was still weakened, still trapped in a feeble shell, a fraction of what he had once been when he was powerful, when the world had trembled at his footstep, and to speak his name was forbidden lest they summon him by chance.

Even so, his evil aura could be felt, it radiated outward from the crumbled Victorian house in a fetid miasma that permeated the very fabric of the astral plane. For those sensitive to such things, it was like a spreading stain of darkness, a midnight beacon in the waning daylight, and it made the tall watcher in the shadows shudder in disgust.

The watcher had long been a foe of the occupants of the Riddle House, unseen and unknown, but nevertheless a foe against the evil that threatened to rise again and spread misery and destruction throughout the land. His mouth tightened and he spat a curse as he felt the aura surrounding the house pulse with the satisfaction of a Muggle death.

_One day, Riddle, you shall pay in blood for all the innocent lives you have taken. I would tear out your throat myself, did your wards not prevent me._ The watcher thought angrily. _Another time, Voldemort. You cannot hide forever._

Then the watcher gathered the shadows of his mastery about himself and appeared to vanish, leaving the occupants of Riddle House to their nefarious deeds. But not before speaking a soft Word and marking the door of the residence with a secret rune-one that would tell those who could read the nearly forgotten magic tongue that the ones inside had been marked for death by a Nightwalker.

He hoped that the ones inside the manor could read the Old Tongue and would know what the rune meant and be afraid, for he detested them and all they stood for.

_Realm of Faerie_

_Queen Titania's throne room_

_A few hours previous:_

Soothing music drifted from a golden lyre played by invisible fingers. The melody echoed through the high vaulted ceiling and drifted over the azure velvet drapes that swathed the crystal windows, preventing curious eyes from seeing within. Thousands of twinkling rainbowed fairy lights lit up the room, which was large enough to hold all the denizens of the Seelie Court should the queen, Titania, desire to summon all of her subjects at once. She never had, but the hall had been designed to accommodate all of her subjects if necessary, just in case her realm fell under assault from her Unseelie cousins and they needed to seek shelter in the palace.

The palace was formed of fae marble, spelled to withstand almost any natural disaster, and most magical ones as well, including dragon fire. It was iridescent, and glistened when the lights from overhead struck it. The floor was patterned in shades of teal, cream and soft lavender in feathery geometric patterns, broken only by a thick swath of royal purple carpet leading up to the dias where Titania's throne rested. The throne was carved of pure alabaster with a plump purple cushion, but it was currently unoccupied.

In one corner, a few of the high fae were dancing quietly, twirling in graceful patterns, the women wearing colorful silk skirts and gossamyr shawls that swirled and glittered in the court lights. Some wore jewels in their hair or on their person, others wore plain unadorned silk, but all were inhumanly lovely to behold. Some had large gossamer wings, others none. Their male partners were no less beautiful, wearing an array of styles of breeches and cloaks and tunics in jewel tones in silk or samite or crushed velvet. Earrings winked and flashed in pointed ears as they whirled and glided in a dance that was centuries old.

Pixies and shimmerlings flew through the air, laughing and teasing each other, while unseen servants brought trays of food and summerdew to those who requested it. Frolics and revels were common in Titania's court, for she was a benevolent and merry monarch, though not one who was given over entirely to pleasure. She was a shrewd and strong ruler, both magically and politically, having reigned for over nine hundred years.

Farther down the hall, in a secluded alcove set with spells so no prying eyes or ears could overhear them, sat a tall woman dressed in a deep blue tunic and breeches set with a few discreet twinkling sapphires, diamonds and opal about the collar and hem. Sleek white dragonscale boots hugged her thighs, and she wore a dagger strapped to her calf and another on her belt. Tucked on the opposite side was a scepter of ivory set with aquamarines and a large diamond, the symbol of the royal house of faerie. Titania's platinum hair spilled down her back in a frothing silver wave, the tresses decked with tiny glittering jewels and glowstones, her pointed ears tilted to catch any sign of her missing guest.

Next to her was a diminutive woman in mithril armor wearing gray leathers and a long sword. Across her back was slung a quiver and a longbow. Her dark curly hair was cut short and her green eyes were watchful, scanning the room for any threats to her monarch. On her gray swansdown-lined cloak was a brooch of silver-two crossed swords, designating Sarai Valinek as Captain of the Queen's Blades, her most trusted defender. Despite her size, there was no more skilled and deadly fighter in the Seelie Court than the half-fae warrior.

Titania drummed one elegant finger on the glass tabletop and glanced at her companion with an impatient air. "Does he not know it is very rude to keep royalty waiting?"

"Perhaps it has not yet become dark in the World Beyond, Your Grace," Sarai said quietly.

Titania huffed, arching one feathery eyebrow in disbelief. "The time of our meeting was set to coincide with the sunset in the mortal realm. Besides, he possesses a Sunstone, so that point is moot."

Sarai did not respond, knowing the queen was working herself into a royal snit because of her guest's tardiness and not wanting to feel the lash of her sovereign's tongue.

Suddenly there was a stirring in the air and then a tall man with midnight hair and violet eyes appeared further down the hall. He was handsome as well, though not like the inhuman perfection of the fae. He was slender and there was an air of danger in his eyes and about his muscled frame that gave one pause. He was dressed simply, in dark breeches and boots and a long flowing cream shirt, and a long black cloak lined with violet silk that matched his eyes. He wore both sword and dagger and his easy stride as he approached the secluded corner showed that he was well-versed in the dance of swords.

Titania looked up as the newcomer halted and bowed deeply to her, a frown stealing across her delicate features. Her aqua eyes flashed disapproval. "You are late, Nightwalker. I hope you have a pertinent excuse for keeping me waiting."

"Forgive me, Your Highness, my lateness is inexcusable." The vampire bowed again in apology. "But perhaps you may forgive me when you hear what I have discovered, Your Grace?"

Titania waved him to a seat. "Speak then, Philip Anthony Snape. If I find your tale interesting enough, I may grant you clemency, sir," the queen said, a faint teasing note in her voice. Like all fae women, Titania loved to flirt with handsome men, fae and non-fae as the whim took her.

"I pray so, Your Grace," Philip said, inclining his head to the fae lady and her Captain. Then he lowered his voice to the barest whisper and said, "We will not be overheard?"

"No. I have set the wards myself. You need not fear any eavesdropping," Titania reassured him. "What has transpired in the world since I sent you out a month ago, Philip?"

The vampire drew in a breath, an affectation he maintained while among mortals, though he did not need to breathe any longer. "When I accepted this assignment from you, my lady, I did so because I wished to observe my descendents more closely as well as keep an eye on those dark wizards who seek to overthrow the Balance in their favor. In exchange for a Sunstone I agreed to be your eyes and ears in the World Beyond. Much has happened since then, Your Grace, both good and bad." Philip cleared his throat and toyed idly with the Sunstone upon a chain about his neck. "You will know, of course, that young Harry Snape has been chosen the heir to Prince Manor."

Titania nodded. "Yes, Sarai's mortal lover, Severus, has informed us of that happy incident. Though I did not meet the boy personally, I trust the manor's Guardians, and if he is anything like his father, he shall do well in ruling the manor. What else?"

"There have been rumors that the Cup of Wonders has reappeared once more in the mortal realm, I felt its resonance as I passed by that wizard school in the north of Scotland called Hogwarts."

"At Hogwarts?" Sarai gasped. "Are you certain, Phil?"

The vampire nodded. "Yes, Captain. I was around when Merlin first borrowed the cup, and then returned it to the Cup Maidens after Arthur was healed."

"Who kept it safe until a thieving mortal named Galahad stole it, believing it to be the sacred cup of his religion. He in turn had it stolen from him by Nimue, Merlin's apprentice, who hid it away." Titania said tartly. "And since then it has been in the hands of mortals, who have no clue how to use it."

"True. But perhaps we may yet get it back." Philip demurred. "In any case, the cup was the least of my unexpected discoveries. While I was patrolling the area about the school, I chanced to feel a disturbance in the astral ether and I followed the dark taint to a dilapidated manor house on a deserted street in a small town called Little Hangleton. I remained hidden and observed that there was a dark aura coming from the house. I could smell blood and death, an old man had died recently, killed by dark sorcery. When I peered in a window I saw a child-like figure holding a wand that reeked of dark magic. He looked barely old enough to handle such power but I could sense that the soul inhabiting his body was far older . . .and steeped in darkness."

Titania gave a grimace of distaste. "That sounds like the old enemy of Severus's, does it not, Sarai?"

"It does indeed, Your Grace. Severus says once he was a member of Slytherin, a half-blood wizard, he calls himself Lord Voldemort, a dark necromancer of the worst order."

"But was not this Voldemort killed thirteen years ago?" the queen asked.

"Yes, by a failed spell, trying to kill Severus's son, Harry," Sarai explained. "But I suppose, using his dark arts, he has managed to avoid death and find a new host for his spirit."

"I would agree, Lady Valinek," Philip concurred. "And that is grave news indeed. He must be stopped. By any means necessary. Last time he tried to take over all of magical Britain and Europe as well. Had he succeeded, he would have thrown the world into darkness. It was by Merlin's own luck that he was stopped."

"Say rather by the power of the Mother's Guardianship spell," Sarai corrected. "It was that which saved Harry's life. But you are right, Phil. Voldemort must be stopped. I only wish that I might go and help guard Harry and fight beside Severus myself. But my oath . . ." she trailed off, her green eyes pensive.

Titania looked up at her Blade and said softly, "If it were possible, I would release you from my service, Sarai. But you know well that the Unseelie are stirring again, and I cannot spare you at this time. I am sorry, Captain."

"I understand, Your Grace. My duty to the throne comes before all else," the warrior said without rancor. _But oh, how I wish that were not so! And that I could return to the mortal realm and stand beside my beloved and help him in his time of need. I fear he is going to need it._

"This Voldemort, is he a threat to the young heir?" Titania asked sharply.

"Oh yes, Your Grace." Philip nodded. "There is no one Voldemort wishes dead more than Harry Potter, who is now known as Harry Albus Snape."

Titania's eyes flashed. "Though it is not my policy to interfere in the affairs of mortals, this once I shall make an exception, since by his Prince blood, young Snape is one of the Seelie Court. And I shall not allow one of my kin to be hunted down like a stag to sate the bloodlust of a necromancer! You say this Voldemort has died once before? How is he then able to return from the Veil? Is he one of your kind, Nightwalker?"

"No. He's not a vampire," Phlip told her. "_That_I would know. I can always sense another of my kind. I don't know how he manages to return from the dead, but it is not because he is immortal or undead. I believe he can be killed somehow."

"Of course. Everything alive can die somehow," Titania said simply. She narrowed her almond-shaped eyes and said shortly, "Do you think there is a chance that Voldemort will try and ally himself with my sister Maeve of the Unseelie Court?"

"It's a possibility, Your Grace," Philip allowed. "If Voldemort does not approach her, she may send an emissary to him. She has always loved causing discord among mortals, as you well know. It is meat and drink to her."

Titania scowled. "That must not be allowed to occur. I have far too much trouble with her as it is without adding some mortal sorcerer to the mix. Philip, I would order you to guard young Snape, save that I think my order is unnecessary and you will do so whether I wish it or no."

"That is true. Harry is my descendant, as is his father Severus. I am bound by ties of blood to protect my kin," the vampire said. "It is to my sorrow that I did not know of the danger to him until it was too late all those years ago. That will not be the case this time. This time I shall be closer than his shadow, and Voldemort will find that I am not so easily defeated as a human wizard." Philip bared his fangs slightly, and the aura of danger increased about him.

"Good. Because they need all the help they can get," Sarai remarked. "From what Sev has told me, Harry and his brother Draco are magnets for trouble."

To her surprise, Philip chuckled. "As are most children. I should know, for I have twin boys, and though they are only four, they are already driving me crazy with their escapades."

The queen of faerie struggled to maintain her royal façade, but in the end had to allow herself a commiserating smile. "Aye, I know _exactly_how you feel, Philip. My own sons and my daughter were mischief incarnate and to this day Balin still tries my patience. But such are the joys of parenting."

"Which I am happy to not have discovered just yet," Sarai remarked wryly.

Titania slanted an amused glance at her bodyguard. "Ah, but if you intend to marry your Severus, Captain Valinek, you may experience those joys sooner than you think."

"Be that as it may, my liege, if we don't make an effort to protect his children, I may never get that chance," Sarai said.

"You are correct, little cousin. May I therefore suggest that you put all of your considerable power forth to protect your descendents, Philip? I shall not command it, since you are not technically one of my subjects."

"You would not need to, Your Majesty," Philip replied. There was a determined glint in his violet eyes. "I would do so anyway. Furthermore, I will be on the lookout for the Cup of Wonders and if an opportunity presents itself I shall attempt to reclaim it and return it to you, its rightful owners."

"Thank you, Philip. You are a good ally, for all that you are a Nightwalker." Titania acknowledged, pleased. "I suppose it is true what they say, there is good and bad in every kind of creature."

Both Philip and Sarai agreed with that statement.

"Your Grace, I should be departing soon. If I recall correctly, the term for young wizards begins September 1st and I would like to be at Hogwarts when young Harry and his brother get off the train and make sure they are unharmed. Voldemort has been known to place spies in the school." Philip rose to his feet.

"Go then, sir. And mind you guard well, Nightwalker. Prince Manor must not be left without its heir." Titania admonished, then waved Philip off.

The Nightwalker bowed and then swirling his cloak in a dramatic flair, vanished as quickly as he had come, using his vampiric powers.

The Hogwarts Express pulled into the station in front of the castle and the students disembarked, shouting, laughing, grumbling as was typical for children newly arrived at school for a new year.

Harry came off the train carrying Hedwig and Frost's cages and floating his trunk behind him, right after Ron and Hermione. Smidgen was perched upon his shoulder, hidden from all save Harry, Draco, and Severus. Harry squinted in the bright sunshine and then followed his friends, though not before catching the eye of his foster brother first and giving him a nod and a wink.

Draco pretended to scowl and sniff, but he gave Harry a swift half-smile before turning away to walk with his Slytherin buddies towards the horseless carriages that would bring the older students to school.

Neither boy noticed the dark watcher who was standing in the shadow of a large oak, observing their progress, his dark clothing blending perfectly with the tree, one hand cupping the Sunstone pendant. He watched as the two got into the carriages and then followed behind, unseen, as he had promised.

**And so begins their next adventure!**

**Just a reminder, since this my AU universe expect plenty of twists, and the tournament will not be running to canon, there may be different tasks and surprises along the way.**

**For those of you unfamiliar with fae terms:**

**Seelie Court/fae: the Light members of the faerie realm, those who are pledged to bring no serious harm to humans or their world and who keep the Balance between Light and Dark. They include such members as high court fae, nymphs, dryads, sprites, shimmerlings, ect. Summer Queen Titania.**

**Unseelie Court/fae: The opposite Dark fae, those who delight in causing harm and mayhem to mortals and their world. They seek to break the Balance in their favor, by whatever means necessary. Members include dark fae, nighthags, trolls, banshees, harpies, lurks, darkhounds, ect. Winter Queen Maeve.**


	2. A Shocking Announcement

**A Shocking Announcement**

_Hogwarts staff room_

_An hour before the Hogwarts Express arrives:_

"In addition to our new staff member, Alastor Moody, who has come out of retirement at my request to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, we will also be hosting the Triwizard Tournament, for the first time in over three hundred years. Representatives from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will be arriving here in the beginning of November. In the meantime, students eligible for the tournament shall be permitted to put their names in the Goblet of Fire. I am sure whoever represents Hogwarts will do so to the best of his or her ability." Dumbledore said, his sapphire eyes twinkling.

All the staff members nodded. Then the old man stood and gestured to Severus, who had been waiting silently for the entire meeting, his hands fisted in his black robes to still a faint tremor of nervousness, though what in Merlin's name he had to be nervous about was incomprehensible. Everyone here already knew of his former undercover activities as a spy, that had gone public with the Malfoy trial. They also knew of his guardianship of Draco. The one thing they did not know and which he was about to reveal to them was the fact that Harry Potter was really his son, Harry Albus Snape.

Severus rose, clasped his hands before him, and said quietly, "You all know how I was once a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, and due to several circumstances, am now quit of that profession. I have assumed guardianship of both Draco Malfoy, who is my godson, and another young man whom you once knew as Harry Potter." Gasps followed that statement. Severus continued calmly. "What I did not know until this summer, when Harry's aunt, Petunia Dursley, revealed to me a secret she has kept for thirteen years, was that Harry was in truth _my_ son and not James Potter's. I have since done a paternity test to confirm her revelation and it has come back positive."

MCGonagall's jaw hung open. "What are you saying, Severus? That Lily broke her marriage vows?"

"No. She was carrying Harry before she ever married James."

"Then why did she marry him and not you?" asked the Head of Gryffindor, confused.

"Do you remember the events of the spring and summer of 1980?" queried the Potions Master. "If not, let me refresh your memories. I was, at that time, just turned twenty, and recently begun my spying duties for the Order a year previously. I was engaged to marry Lily, but had not yet proposed formally. I did not know she was pregnant. Before we could go any further in our relationship Albus asked me to set a trap for some of the Dark Lord's most influential members, like Bellatrix Lestrange, Barty Crouch Jr., and others. We staged a battle between them and some Order members, and during that battle, Albus pretended to "kill" me. This was because we were very close to finding He-Who_Must-Not-Be-Named's secret base and Albus did not want me to be forced to fight against my real allies in that battle, so he had me fake my own death. I was forbidden to reveal the truth to anyone, especially Lily. I hid myself away in a safe place, and was supposed to return when Albus deemed it safe, and then he would clear me of whatever charges the Ministry accused me of. No one knew that Lily was carrying my child, or that she would take my death so hard that she decided to marry James in order to give her baby a father."

"She never told him, I take it?" McGonagall asked sharply.

"No. She never told the truth of Harry's parentage to anyone save Petunia. By the time I returned to the world, Harry was born and recognized as James Potter's son. I refused to let Lily know that I was alive once I discovered she had married James and a year after that she was dead by Voldemort's hand and Harry sent to live with her sister and her family. Petunia revealed the truth to me when I sought sanctuary in her home over the summer, she too had presumed me dead."

"Bet that was a shock, Snape," Moody said gruffly, sipping from his hip flask.

"In more ways than one. I took Harry with me when I left for my ancestral home for the rest of the summer and we have managed to get along quite tolerably. Draco joined us soon after and the two boys will be raised as brothers by me. My son will also be known now by his rightful name, Harry Albus Snape. He was wearing a glamour Lily placed upon him when he was born. I have since removed it, though my son put it back for the train ride and the feast. Once you have revealed his identity to Gryffindor, Minerva, he will remove it for good. You will then see that he resembles me a great deal." Severus said that last with a hint of pride.

"Congratulations, professor!" said Hagrid, smiling at the tall man. "You couldn't ask for a better son than Harry. And even Draco oughta shape up with you as his guardian now."

"Thank you, Hagrid," said Severus sincerely. "I wished to inform all of you first so that you may tell the members of your House during the beginning of term meeting. I think it best if you do so then, rather than making an announcement in the Great Hall. Like me, Harry prefers to be out of the limelight."

The other three Heads of House agreed, then it was time to go to the hall and wait for the students to arrive. All were quite surprised by their colleague's unexpected revelation, but their emotions were nothing to what the students' reactions would be.

* * * * * *

All during the feast, Harry kept pausing in eating his supper and casting furtive glances over at the Slytherin table, where Draco was seated with Crabbe and Goyle, the staff table, where his father was sitting next to Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, and occasionally over his shoulder as well. He could not shake the odd feeling that he was being watched.

His uneasiness transmitted itself to the shimmerling hidden within the folds of his hood, and Smidgen hissed into his mind, _:Is there something amiss, Harry? You're as jumpy as a darkhound with fleas.:_

_No. It's just . . .I feel like people are staring at me. Stupid, right? I haven't even removed the glamour yet. I guess Dad must have told McGonagall and the rest of them by now. Wonder how they took it? Guess I'll find out once we have the House meeting. Dad said McGonagall would tell everyone in Gryffindor then._

_:Do not worry, Harry. Your lineage as a Prince is illustrious enough to satisfy even the most prejudiced pureblood of your race. And if not, then they are stupider than a pixie.:_ the shimmerling sniffed.

Harry grinned and took a bite of his fried chicken. It tasted wonderful, though his pumpkin juice was only adequate. He sighed, wishing he had merlinna juice instead. He had become quite addicted to the fae fruit while staying at Prince Manor for the summer, and the sweet-tart juice was like nectar of the gods. He wouldn't be able to have merlinnas until he returned to the manor, so he would have to learn to ignore the craving for the heart-shaped fruit.

Around him, his Housemates were discussing their new Defense teacher, and also the upcoming Triwizard Tournament. Dumbledore had not yet summoned the Goblet of Fire into the room, he had said he would do so after the feast, and Harry was eager to get a look at the magical object.

"Who do you think the cup will pick for the tournament?" asked Lavender Brown.

"We wish it were us," said Fred longingly. "It's dumb that you have to be of age-"

"-to compete," finished George, frowning. "Maybe we could manufacture an Aging potion? I mean, we're only shy of seventeen by a few months."

"The Goblet could only pick one of you," Hermione reminded them bossily. "And if you think you can hoodwink Dumbledore, think again. There's a _reason_ why you have to be of age to compete in the tournament. People have died before."

"That's half the fun of it! The risk!" chorused the twins.

Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust, as did half the girls at the table. _Boys! The more dangerous it was, the better they liked it. They were all idiots, without the sense God gave an insect._

"I'm sure your mother wouldn't agree," put in Katie Bell.

"Well, of course not. She's our mum!" Ron said. He exchanged glances with his brothers and half the boys at the table. _Girls! Mention danger and they were all shivery and wimpy. They were so boring, always thinking about safety and dying. No fun whatsoever._

"Who's going to put their name in the Goblet from Gryffindor?" asked Dean.

Several seventh years and a few sixth years who had just turned seventeen raised their hands.

"Hope the Goblet picks one of us," said Angelina Johnson.

"You have as good a chance as any of the other candidates," said Hermione. "But Dumbledore said he wouldn't let the Goblet become active until after the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived. He just wants us to get a look at it beforehand. I think the tournament sounds barbaric, but exciting."

"How can it be both?" asked Ron.

"Because it means we get to meet students from other schools and see what they know magically and if we know more than they do, and it's barbaric because the tournament is dangerous and very risky." Hermione explained.

"Girls!" muttered Ron in disgust. "There's no understanding them. Mention danger and fighting and it's like you insulted their mother."

_Except Sarai,_ Harry thought wryly. _She's not afraid of either of those things._

_:There are not many women, fae or human, like Sarai Kinsalari Valinek,:_ Smidgen declared proudly, purring softly into Harry's ear.

_That's for sure,_ Harry thought in admiration, recalling how the half-fae warrior had fought like a dervish to save him and Draco from the Unseelie fae in the Deepwood. He hoped that he would see more of Sarai when he returned to Prince Manor, he had really enjoyed sparring and talking with her, and he knew his dad missed her too, if for a different reason entirely.

Thinking of the manor made Harry place a hand upon his amulet, which he always wore beneath his shirt. Just clasping it made his ever-present longing for the cool lawns and melinna-filled orchard subside a bit. He could feel the pulse of the manor through the amulet, the magic that bound him to it was strong enough to transcend distance and time as well. He was one with the land and the land was one with him. If anything breached the wards about the manor, he would know. But of course that had never happened, the manor was too well hidden, both by the Evermist and other wards of protection.

All he had to do was get through the first term and then he could go home to the manor for break. He just hoped the term would go swiftly and be free of mishaps, though he knew that was wishful thinking. Mishaps seem to occur about him without him needing to do anything, and just because he was the heir to Prince Manor and Severus's son now didn't mean that would change.

_I just hope whatever trouble finds me doesn't make Dad have a heart attack._

At last the feast ended, and Dumbledore raised his hands for silence. Everyone hushed and the old wizard made a beckoning motion with a hand and a plain wooden box appeared in the room with a sharp pop.

It floated over to the podium where the Headmaster was now standing and Dumbledore reverently removed the large golden cup inlaid with opals and sapphires from its box and held it up for everyone in the hall to see.

"This is what you will be placing your names into a few months from now," Dumbledore announced. "Is it not a splendid piece of craftsmanship?"

Gasps of awe and longing swept through the hall as the students gazed upon the priceless treasure.

Only two in the hall did not fall under the goblet's spell.

Phillip, who was standing beside a pillar, cloaked in a vampiric spell of non-detection, stared at the goblet in the old archmagus's hands in shock and anger. "That is not yours to use! It was stolen from the fae centuries ago!" he muttered, too low to be heard by human ears. "Your Goblet of Fire is the Cup of Wonders!"

Smidgen too was furious at seeing the stolen object displayed like a prize trophy at a fair, without regard for its sacred lineage. She hissed and lashed her tail, fluttering off Harry's shoulder and glaring at Dumbledore. _Our sacred chalice, stolen from us by a thief of the Roundtable, who tricked his way through the Maidens of the Cup by charm and glamourie taught to him by his half-fae sire, Lancelot, will now be used as a mere vessel to choose champions for a tournament?_

"Titania would be furious if she knew," Phil whispered to himself.

Smidgen's ears pricked. _:What? Who said that?:_ She swiveled her ears about and flew towards the source of the voice. _:Who knows of the fae queen, my mistress? Show yourself!:_

Phillip stiffened upon hearing the voice in his head. _Come closer, and I shall let down my veils a bit._

Smidgen did so, and when she was closer, sent , _:I am about four pawlengths away from you.:_

Phillip dropped his veils for a moment, and Smidgen wrinkled her nose at him. _:Who are you? Do you work for the queen? You are no fae. You are a Nightwalker.:_

_Yes. Titania spoke of a danger to Harry Snape, the heir to Prince Manor. I am here to guard him from harm. He is my descendant. I am Phillip Anthony Snape. What are you called, shimmerling?_

_:My mother called me Smidgen, Phillip.:_ replied the shimmerling. She cast another glance at the chalice in Dumbledore's hands. _:The nerve of these wizards, using the sacred Cup of Wonders thus! It makes my fur stand on end.:_

Phil nodded. _They don't know what they have. So few of them study the old legends of the fae anymore. Only the Prince line would understand the gravity of them using the Cup in such a fashion, as a mere vessel for a tournament. They do not know what the Cup is capable of doing._

_:I should say not, else they would never treat it so cavalierly:_ sniffed Smidgen.

Together the two emissaries from the Seelie Court watched as Dumbledore displayed the goblet for a few more minutes then returned it to its box and sent it back to his office. "And now, I am pleased to announce the beginning of a new year and hope that you will all make it a memorable one. Remember, celebrate the differences as well as the similarities between yourselves and those of the other schools and even those in your own school. Diversity is the spice of life." He waved his hands at the students. "Go on then, I believe your Heads of House have a meeting for you to go to before you can relax for the rest of the day. But don't stay up too late, as classes begin tomorrow!"

At that, a collective groan went up from over four hundred throats, and everyone rose to their feet and filed out of the hall.

Smidgen flew after Harry, still steamed over the sudden appearance of the Cup of Wonders.

Noiselessly, the vampire lord followed a few feet behind.

* * * * * *

_Gryffindor common room:_

" . . .and now, there is one more announcement I have to make," McGonagall said, and she motioned for Harry to come and stand beside her in front of the hearth. The rest of their House were gathered on the couches and tables or sprawled on the floor. "Most of you here know that Harry was made an orphan when You-Know-Who killed his parents. But recently, he has learned that was not so. He lost only his mother that night. His father is still alive and well."

"How?"

"Harry?" she gestured for him to proceed.

He swallowed hard and said, "Because, Neville, my father wasn't James Potter. My dad is Severus Snape."

And with that he released the glamour over himself and his features became those of his true self. His cheekbones narrowed, he became taller, his hair was sleek and dark, no longer a messy mop, and his hands lengthened. He still had green eyes and glasses, but now one could see that he was indeed Snape's biological son.

"This is my real appearance. The way I looked before was a glamour my mother put on me as a baby." Harry explained.

Gasps and exclamations erupted in the room.

"Merlin! He looks like Snape!"

"Poor thing!"

"Why? I think he looks sexy!" cooed a fifth year girl, eyeing Harry appreciatively.

Harry felt himself blush.

"Does Snape know?"

"Does that mean your mum cheated on your other dad?"

"No!" shouted Harry, anxious to nip _that_ rumor in the bud. "My dad never even knew I was born. Mum didn't know she was pregnant till after she married James, she was engaged to my real dad and thought he'd died. Only it was a cover for his role as a spy."

"Sure, that's what they all say!" sneered a sixth-year boy.

"It's true!" Harry cried, incensed.

"Enough, Mr. Tibbs!" McGonagall ordered sharply. "What Mr. Snape says is correct, and you will accept that fact and keep your mouth shut. Slander about Professor Snape or Harry's conception will not be tolerated, am I understood? Anyone I find circulating lewd rumors will find themselves in detention with me for two weeks, writing apologies and essays until their hand is ready to fall off."

Tibbs blanched. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry, professor."

"Good. Now, I expect all of you to treat Harry as you did before, after all he is still a Gryffindor, even though his father is your potions professor and Head of Slytherin." McGonagall finished. "Good night. Get some sleep, you'll want to be rested and alert for your first day back."

She swept from the common room, retiring up the stairs to her quarters on the opposite end of the tower.

Harry glanced around, feeling like the main attraction at a freak show.

Neville was eying Harry warily, as if he expected Harry to suddenly start glaring and issuing detentions and taking points. It would have been amusing had it been anyone else, but instead Harry only found it disheartening.

Some of his Housemates were giving him looks of horror or sympathy, others were staring at him as if he was a stranger, and still others were glaring and looking as though they wished he would drop dead.

"How did the Hat ever put you in Gryffindor, _Snape_?" hissed a seventh-year after McGonagall was safely out of earshot.

"Yeah, why didn't it put you where you belonged . . .with the scummy snakes in the dungeons?" taunted another.

"Because he belonged here, Knowles!" snapped Hermione, coming to stand next to Harry, her small chin lifted defiantly. "The Hat doesn't always sort family members into the same House. Look at the Patil twins!"

"Hermione's right," Parvati spoke up. "I am a Gryffindor, but my identical twin is a Ravenclaw. There is no shame in this."

"No, because your sister's not a greasy git," shouted someone in the back of the room.

Harry felt his temper start to ignite. "My father is not a greasy git! Most of how he behaved towards all of us was an act, a cover for his activities as an agent. Over the summer, I learned who my dad really was, and it wasn't the professor you all know."

"Yeah, right! Snake lover! Maybe you ought to get Dumbledore to Re-Sort you!"

"Shut up, Stark!" ordered Ron angrily. "The Hat put him here and here is where Harry stays. I don't care what his last name is or who his dad is. He's still my best mate. Now put up or shut up!"

He too came to stand beside Harry and Hermione.

Harry lifted his head and said quietly, "I'm the same person I was before, I just know my real identity now and have a father instead of a grave to talk to. I'm descended from the Prince line through my grandmother and I'm proud of that and proud of my father. He risked his life so we could all be safe."

"But then he went and adopted Malfoy, ugh!" Dean groaned.

"That's right. Because Malfoy, like me, needed a father, and he's my dad's godson."

"Too bad."

"Yeah, who'd want to be related to Malfoy, the Death Eater spawn?"

"How you can stand being related to any Slytherin is beyond me, Potter."

"It's Snape now, Dougal," Harry reminded him sharply. "Not all Slytherins are dark, just like not all Gryffindors are brave. I've learned to live with Malfoy and anyhow, it's none of your business."

Abruptly, he was sick and tired of all the fuss and irritable and all he wanted was some peace and quiet. He turned to his friends and said softly, "I'm going to pretend to go to bed and use my cloak to slip out of the tower. Meet me near the humpbacked witch statue, I need to get out of here for a bit. Before I go postal and start hexing people."

Hermione looked like she wanted to protest, but then she just nodded and so did Ron.

Harry then announced he was going to bed and went upstairs.

He dug through his trunk till he found James's cloak and slipped it on. Then he drew the curtains round his bed and set a swift glamour on it of himself sleeping, just in case anyone checked.

After that he slipped out of the tower on silent feet, using his _kin-sa-dor_ techniques to move like a ghost down the corridor.

Smidgen fluttered over to him and perched on his shoulder. _:Ought you not to be in your common room, Harry? It's not quite safe for you to be wandering about at night.:_

"I'll be fine, Smidgen. I just needed to get out of there for a few minutes. My friends will be along soon." Harry said aloud.

_:You are troubled, young Snape. Did your meeting not go well?:_

Harry exhaled sharply. Then he opened his mind and shared his thoughts with the dreamweaver, who purred soothingly at him. _:I know it is difficult, Harry, to endure the taunts of those you thought were your friends, but the truth is always better than a lie, and if they cannot handle the truth of who you really are, then perhaps they were not your friends to begin with. I think you will find out soon who you can trust and who you can't. But don't lose heart, child. You will always have me and your family. We shall never abandon you and we love you always.:_

The shimmerling's heartfelt sending touched him and he stroked the fae cat gently and whispered, "Thanks, Smidgen."

A real family and a home. He had at last what he had always wanted, he reminded himself, clutching the amulet beneath his shirt. And he wasn't going to give it up, not for anything. Smidgen was right, and he knew that his father would tell him the same thing if he were here. If a person couldn't accept you for who you were, then that person was not a real friend, just an acquaintance. He was grateful that Ron and Hermione were true friends, and the twins, and some of the others as well. And in the end it was better to have a few real friends than two dozen acquaintances, he decided, leaning back against the statue.

In a few minutes, Ron and Hermione could be heard coming down the corridor, Harry had to suppress a giggle at how loud they sounded. _They need some lessons on the art of being a shadow. Too bad only those with fae blood can learn kin-sa-dor._

He tossed off the Invisibility Cloak when they came around the corner.

"Hey, Harry. Guess you just needed to get away, huh?" Hermione said sympathetically. "Just ignore those other dimwits. They haven't the brains God gave an amoeba."

Harry chuckled. "Got that right, 'Mione. I just needed some space, I was feeling smothered in there."

"I know what you mean." Ron said feelingly. "Good thing you left, I was tempted to punch some of them out after, but Hermione dragged me out the door."

"The last thing you need, Ron, is detention with McGonagall for causing a brawl," Hermione said disapprovingly. "Besides, hitting an idiot doesn't change their mind, it just knocks the rest of what brains he had out of his head." She scowled. "I never knew just how bigoted some people in Gryffindor were until tonight."

"Prejudice knows no boundaries," Harry quoted softly, though he couldn't for the life of him remember who had said that. He sighed softly. "But better I know who my real friends are now than get a nasty shock a month later when they turn on me."

"Right. Get all the arseholes out in the open," Ron agreed. "And whatever happens, mate, me and my brothers will stand by you."

"And me."

"Thanks." Harry said sincerely.

Feeling much better than he had previously, he remained talking with his two best friends for awhile longer, telling them more amusing stories about Prince Manor and describing Dragon's Wild, the wizard version of five card draw poker, and how Draco and he had once knocked Severus down while running a race to the kitchen.

Ron's eyes nearly bugged out. "No way! Was he like ready to tear you into pieces?"

"No, not really. He gave me a smack on the bum but it didn't really hurt. I think he was sort of relieved that we were finally getting along, so all we had to do was apologize and make him lunch."

Ron whistled. "I would have loved to see that. Snape on the floor and you two knocked on top of him!"

"Was he hurt?" Hermione wanted to know.

Harry shook his head, laughing. "No. Only his pride."

Then Ron started discussing the Quidditch World Cup and how he had gotten to see Viktor Krum play, who was the youngest and best professional Seeker ever, and how Ireland had beaten Bulgaria.

"But after that, the Death Eaters came," reminded Hermione. "And they started tormenting Muggles that were camping nearby. It was awful."

"I'll bet Lucius Malfoy was in that bunch," Ron said darkly.

"No doubt," Harry agreed.

"But he wasn't caught when they rounded up the others after the Dark mark was shot off into the sky," Ron finished. "My dad and some of the other Ministry officials never did find the wand that made the Mark appear. Maybe that was Lucius too."

"Well, I'm glad he's in Azkaban, and so is his wife!" Hermione declared hotly. "That's where all of them belong."

Harry checked his watch. "It's getting late and I'm going to bed. Coming?"

They followed him back to the common room.

As he was getting into bed, Harry wondered how Draco and Severus had fared with the Slytherins. _If my own House was this bad, what must have theirs been like, who have Death Eater supporters? Oh, well, maybe I can find a way to ask him tomorrow. We have potions together. _

He felt his eyes start to drift shut and he sank into sleep, while above him on the pillow, a black dreamweaver kept watch for a portion of the night, then slipped away to explore the castle, eager to discover what secrets it held beyond the Cup of Wonders.

**How did you like the dynamics in this one?**

**Next: The Slytherin reaction to both Sev and Draco and first potions class. **


	3. Den of Vipers

**Den of Vipers**

Draco cast Severus an uneasy glance as they walked together from the hall down to the dungeons to the Slytherin House common room. Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, the fourteen-year-old was feeling nauseous, like a legion of vipers had taken up residence inside his stomach, and he was profoundly grateful for the tall black-robed guardian striding along beside him. With Severus he was safe, and did not need to fear anything. Unless, of course, he had done something to make Snape angry.

The two made their way down the corridor to the portrait hole, with the large python curled about a staff, without saying anything. There was no need to speak, since both could tell that the other was not looking forward to this meeting, and wanted it over with quickly. Severus did pause and squeeze Draco's shoulder lightly in reassurance, sensing his foster son was making himself ill with nerves.

The boy relaxed a little after that and Severus spoke the password to the portrait, whose name was Raj, Prince of Pythons. "_Veritas_."

"Enter and welcome back, Profes-s-s-or," hissed Raj in greeting, and the door swung open.

"Ever vigilant, Raj," was all Severus said, and then he and Draco stepped inside.

Most of the House was already gathered in the common room, sitting on the comfy black leather couches or chairs and a few were leaning up against the study corrals nonchalantly, as if it were an everyday occurrence to find out that your Head of House was a spy and one of your members had totally rejected the dark path his parents had frogmarched him down since he was a baby.

Draco knew that he could trust only three members of his house to support him at the moment. Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Blaise Zabini. Crabbe and Goyle were his best mates, like Weasley and Granger were to his little brother Harry, they would stick by him through the second coming of Voldemort, if need be. _They_ had no love of the dark path either, despite being forced to ape the Death Eater way by their parents also. And Blaise and his family had never been followers of Old Tom, they had always been enemies, though clever enough to hide under his nose. Blaise had the same attitude and could be trusted. He knew there were other members of Slytherin who were not Death Eater supporters, but he didn't know the older ones well enough to be sure who to trust, though maybe he'd find out after the meeting.

Severus went to stand in front of the fireplace, beneath the portrait of Salazar Slytherin with his arms folded and indicated Draco should take a seat next to his two friends. Draco obeyed, relieved not to have to stand up in front of the whole House and be stared at. But he lifted his head proudly, for he was not ashamed of being Severus's ward or of choosing the light over the dark and repudiating his parents. He had done what was right, not what was easy, and he did not regret it in the slightest. He would far rather be the son of a spy than the son of a Death Eater.

Severus waited until the last few stragglers had appeared, then cleared his throat and began speaking. "For those of you who are new to Slytherin House, welcome to the House of Serpents. I am Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master. I have called you all here not only for the annual beginning of the year House meeting, but to discuss some important personal events that have occurred over the summer. Normally, my private life would not be the topic of a House meeting, however, circumstances being what they are, I would like to inform you of two things. "

Several whispers were heard around the room until Snape glared at them and then they hushed and the room went still, anticipation prickling their skin.

"The first being that I have been a secret double agent working for the Order of the Phoenix since before many of you were born. If any of you followed the Malfoy trial, you know of my testimony during it and the fact that Draco is now my legal ward. You should also know that Draco is not nor has he ever been a supporter of the Death Eaters or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Now, while that revelation may be shocking and unpleasant for some of you to learn, I will tell you now that any attempt to steer Mr. Malfoy back onto "the right path" will result in my unmitigated wrath on your head. He is to be left strictly alone, unharassed, because from now on Slytherin House will no longer be synonymous with a House of Darkness. You-Know-Who might have been a Slytherin and he might have dragged our reputation down into the dirt with him when he fell into darkness, but Salazar Slytherin, Founder of Hogwarts and First Head of Slytherin was _not_ and _never became_ a dark wizard. He was a strict and honorable practitioner of true magic, a defender of pureblood rights, yes, but never of the dark path. Under him, Slytherin House was known for excellence in magic and the drive to be the best one could be. This is the reputation I wish to cultivate again, and starting this year, shall institute a new policy."

Several of the Slytherins looked surprised, and some were nodding their heads, and only a few, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Walter Avery, looked outraged.

Severus continued without missing a beat. "All of you know that one of my rules for Slytherins is to present a united front in public and to try and remain respectful to professors and maintain a certain dignity of appearance and manner. I do not think I need to tell you that your academic standards should be among the highest in this school, as most of you are ambitious enough when it comes to that in any case. Any of you who play on the Quidditch team know that you must maintain standards of an Acceptable or better or else be put on probation and restricted from playing. In the past I allowed some of you to get away with unseemly behavior in my classroom, or appeared to, in public. That will no longer be the case. Most of how I behaved in public was to cover my role as a Death Eater, but now that ruse is no longer necessary, you will receive detentions and deductions of points from me the same as any other students."

Gasps followed this statement, and Draco found himself hard pressed not to grin. _This is the real Severus Snape you're seeing, and now you'll see that he doesn't allow you to get away with anything, relation or no!_

"But sir, you'd take points from your own _House_?" whined Pansy.

"If the student was deserving of it, yes," answered the professor. "While I never took points before in public, anyone who misbehaved in my class always received detention, and Slytherins were no exception, save that the rest of the school was unaware of it. Now, it will be public, so best you all behave." And he fixed them all with one of his trademark scowls usually reserved for impudent Gryffindors, making several firsties and more than a few older students tremble.

"You will discover that I am strict but fair, but earn detention with me and you will also find I can be most unpleasant, especially with members of my own House who continually disobey and flout school rules and my own rules, in or out of the classroom. My advice to you, first years especially, is not to do so. However, you may come to me if you're having difficulty with a subject and need help, or advice about a problem, are ill, or wish to discuss something unrelated to schoolwork and I will do my best to assist you. My office hours are posted on the board there," he pointed to a low chalkboard upon which was written in neat script _Professor Snape's Office Hours_ _6-9 PM or by special appointment._

"After hours I am usually in my quarters, though I strongly suggest you not disturb me unless it is an emergency, such as you are dying of a disease, have been hexed into losing your arms or legs, or are suffering from severe depression, nightmares, or the school is on fire. Yes, Mr. Sullivan?"

A first year was raising his hand in the front row, looking slightly intimidated by his stern teacher. "Uh . . .sir . . .when you give us detention . . .what do you do? In Durmstrang detention usually meant a caning or reciting a hundred school rules or the ducking stool. Is it like that, sir?"

Severus shook his head. "Barbaric! No, Mr. Sullivan, this is Hogwarts and we do not use corporal punishment here on any student. I will never raise my hand to you. Detentions here are served doing disagreeable and nasty chores by hand or writing lines or essays or restriction to quarters, we do not believe in drowning, caning, or using magic as a form of correction."

Suliivan looked vastly relieved, until a second-year said slyly, "But the professor's detentions are no joke. If you're bad he'll make you scrub cauldrons till your fingers fall off, then he'll regenerate them."

Sullivan looked horrified, until his Head of House snapped, "Sullivan, he's putting you on. Atwater, you'll be serving a detention tonight, if you keep up your behavior!"

Atwater blanched and muttered a quick, "Sorry, Professor Snape."

"Now then. My last announcement concerns Harry Potter, specifically that he was never a Potter, but always a Snape. No I am not Confunded, Befuddled, insane, or drunk. The boy you once knew as Harry Potter is actually Harry Albus Snape, my son. "

There was dead silence in the room for about three minutes. Then Theodore Nott blurted, "Bloody hell, sir! Did the Potters like steal him away when he was born and make him think he was their son?"

Snape's eyebrow rose into his hair. Where did the child come up with these ideas? "No, Mr. Nott, nothing so dramatic. At the time, I was engaged to Lily Evans, but was forced to fake my own death as a ruse to fool the Dark Lord during the first war. Lily believed me dead, and married James Potter to give her baby a father."

"Wow, and guess she never told him, right, sir?" asked Millicent Bulstrode.

"No, but she did tell her sister, who then informed me over the summer, and I now have custody of my son. Who will now be known as Mr. Snape and whose appearance will have altered significantly, since I have banished the glamours over him and he has regained his true appearance."

"But he's a _Gryffindor_, sir!" Nott said.

"Yes, I am aware of that, Mr. Nott. What of it?"

"If he's your son, sir, why is he living with the enemy?"

Others began to murmur as well, angry and sneering, until Severus held up his hand. "Quiet! My son being a Gryffindor is not a problem for me, as his mother was of that house. Do not make it a problem, am I clear? Not every family member is Sorted into the same House. And further, Gryffindor is _not_ the enemy. Rivals, yes, but enemy is reserved for the dark wizards, like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. _They_ are your enemies, out to seduce you into following darkness and losing your mind to lies and shadows. Gryffindors may be idiotic and impulsive and inclined to play hero, but they are not your enemies."

"But you hate them!" argued an older sixth year. "You're always taking points and giving them detention."

"I do not hate them, that was an act for my role as a spy. They are my students like any other. And I give them detention because they so often deserve it." Severus countered. "As I will anyone who steps out of bounds with me. This is your first and last warning. Classes begin tomorrow at ten o'clock sharp, I would suggest you unpack and then get a good night's sleep. First years, you may owl your parents or guardian about your Sorting using a school owl if you have none, curfew for you is at ten-thirty sharp, everyone else, lights out at eleven. Anyone interested in submitting their name for the tournament, come and see me tomorrow afternoon at three o'clock. That will be all. Dismissed."

He turned to Draco and beckoned to him. "Draco, a word with you."

Once Draco had joined him in his quarters, Severus relaxed his reserved demeanor and said softly, "I know that you can take care of yourself, son, but I wished to let you know that I am always available should you ever need me for whatever reason. If you need help, come to me. And watch your back, I know that it might have seemed like most of them took your new position well, but you know how some of the Death Eater children are, Dragon."

"Yeah, I know, Dad. I'll be careful."

"Do you know how to cast wards of repulsion?"

"Uh, no. What are they?"

"Protective magic that you can cast about your bed or your trunk that will repel anyone who does not belong touching or hexing your things. It can also work on yourself, if necessary. Cast it before you sleep, it will last for two days."

"Okay. Uh, what happens if someone tries to break in?"

"The ward will physically repel them, either by force, like a powerful Stinging Hex or by knocking them down or mentally, by a strong suggestion."

"As in they'll run away screaming from the room?"

Severus's dark eyes glittered. "Yes, exactly like that."

"Wicked! Thanks, Dad! Show me how to cast it?"

"Of course, dragon. It's why I called you here, after all." He drew his wand. "Watch carefully, Draco."

Once he was sure his son had mastered the spell, he sent Draco back to his dorm. He prayed that those who were Voldemort supporters kept a low profile for now.

* * * * * *

Upon entering his dorm room, Draco immediately was faced with an angry Nott and Avery, who glared at him as if he were scum. Draco glared right back, knowing to show fear when walking into a den of vipers was asking to get bitten. "Got a problem, Nott? Or are you just staring at me because you've forgotten your Remembrall again?"

"You're a traitor, Malfoy!" spat Nott. "You're a traitor and a coward, just like Snape! And one day you'll pay for it. The Dark Lord sees all!"

"Tell the Dark Lord to bite me," Draco spat. "I'm no traitor, Nott, and neither is my father! And if you want to see a coward, Nott, look in the mirror!"

Nott looked as if he were about to go for his wand, but Avery grabbed him and shook his head. "Nott, don't. You try and hex Malfoy and Snape will kick your arse for attacking a fellow House member _and_ his son."

"Screw Snape! He's another one who's gonna get his some night!"

"Shut up, you dope! You couldn't take Snape in his sleep," scolded his friend. "Pick your battles, Nott, don't go off with your mouth running ahead of your brain."

"I meant what I said, Avery!"

"Yeah, okay, whatever, mate. C'mon, let's go to sleep." He dragged the still protesting Nott off to the other side of the room.

Draco sighed, then turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "Keep an eye on that idiot, okay?" When they had nodded, he turned and cast the wards of repulsion on his bed and his trunk. He had learned from being Severus's special apprentice that it was important to always be prepared for anything. Taking precautions had saved Severus's life as a spy and Draco was smart enough to follow his example.

"I'll be back. Gotta go clean my teeth," he told his friends.

"We'll make sure nobody messes with your stuff, Draco," said Goyle.

"Thanks, Greg." He walked out the door and down to the boys' bathroom.

On the way back to his room he banged into Pansy, who looked as if she had been lying in wait for him, her small eyes alight with a look that made Draco cringe and long to transfer to a school somewhere in Antarctica.

"Oh, Draco, I was hoping I'd see you!" she burbled, batting her eyelashes at him in what he supposed was meant to be a come-hither-look.

"You got something in your eye, Parkinson?"

"N-No." She looked a little upset. "I . . .I just wanted to tell you that even though Papa's refused to let me see you since he doesn't want me making a match with a pureblood traitor, _I_ still want to be your girl. I . . .I'll defy anyone who tries to keep us apart, beloved!" she gushed.

Draco struggled to hide his horror. _Merlin help me, but I think I'm going to be sick! Please, please, why did she have to be like this? Why couldn't she just hate me like all the other Death Eater kids?_ "Uh . . .Pansy? You know . . .you shouldn't defy your dad that way . . ."

"Why not? _You_ did._"_

"I know, but that was . . .different." Draco said awkwardly.

"How? I mean, I'm defying Papa for love and you did it for principles. And even if I don't really agree with them . . .you're brave for sticking up for what you believe in. I like that in a man," she purred and made as if to run her hand down Draco's arm.

Draco jerked away. "Pansy, remember Slytherin House Rules? No making out on the premises!"

She pouted, and it made her face look even more unattractive, like a pug with a bad underbite. "Oh, who cares about old Snape and his boring old rules? He's never been in love, what does he know about it? Kiss me, Draco!"

"He knows plenty, he was in love with Harry's mum," Draco pointed out hastily, stepping away from the too-eager girl. "And I don't need him grounding my arse the first night back, so control yourself, girl!"

"Humph! You're no fun!" she sniffed. "Fine! I'll meet you tomorrow near the beech tree by the greenhouse after potions. We both have a free period then."

"How do you know that?"

"Snuck a peek in the Headmaster office before he gave the schedules to Snape. I memorized yours, darling."

Draco wanted to gag. _Help! Get her away! Get her away!_ "You _memorized_ my schedule?"

"Yes," she cooed. "Because I just had to know when we could see each other again."

"Pansy, I don't think that's—"

"Why not? You've known me for years and we're promised in all but name anyway."

"Your father doesn't want me marrying you . . ."

"Old killjoy! Who cares what he wants! _I'm_ the one doing the marrying and I say I want you, Draco Malfoy!" she was practically drooling on him.

"I think you should listen to your father," he blurted, then said, "Look, I'm really tired and we can . . .discuss this tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. And don't worry about my father. He'll come around," she said with the conviction of a child who has always gotten her own way. "Good night, love!" Then she kissed him and scurried away.

Draco waited until she was out of sight before scrubbing his lips with a handkerchief. _Yuck! I've been kissed by a bulldog girl!_ _Bloody hell, why does this crap always happen to me?_

He hurried back to his room, where he thanked his friends for helping him and then undressed and crawled into bed, where he tossed and turned all night, for after lights out, Nott and some other Death Eater supporters tried to hex him while he was sleeping and the wards repulsed them. He could hear their cries of pain and surprise through the bedhangings and he silently thanked God for Severus Snape and his teachings, otherwise he would have probably started the term in the infirmary.

* * * * * *

Outside the potions classroom, Draco waited, he had gotten there early, hoping Harry had gotten the letter he'd sent with Stormy this morning. The message had been short, asking Harry to meet him at the potions classroom fifteen minutes before class, he needed to talk to him.

Harry appeared a few moments later, Smidgen perched upon his shoulder, though she was only visible to those who inhabited Prince Manor and Phil. The fae cat was sitting upright, wings folded against her back, tail wrapped neatly about her feet, her violet eyes bright with curiosity. She had spent half the night exploring the castle, driving Peeves crazy with her blinking and teasing, for there is nothing so irritating as a shimmerling in a mischievous mood, and Peeves had nothing on some of the pixies and pookas Smidgen knew. She had also gotten to know the other ghosts and several secret passages and talked to many of the castle portraits, learning the history of the ancient structure through the conversations. She had been vastly amused to find that as a denizen of the Faerie Realm, she was regarded with respect and awe by many of the wizard portraits and some of the ghosts as well. It seemed that not all mortals had forgotten the might of the fae.

"What's up, Draco?" Harry asked as soon as he drew near his brother. "Your message was kind of . . .vague."

Draco coughed uncomfortably. "That's because I didn't want to risk anyone else accidentally reading it." He looked up and down the corridor, then turned and whispered, "Smidgen, can you keep watch for us? This is kind of a private conversation."

_:It would be no trouble at all, Master Draco.:_ The fae cat answered, then she hovered lazily in the air, watching for any approaching students.

"All right, big brother, spill it. What's got your robes in a knot?"

"Remember when I told you that my father—Lucius—arranged a betrothal for me with Pansy? Well, her father called it off, like I figured, once I told Lucius off at the trial. Only Pansy still thinks we ought to be an item." Draco said, flushing. "She . . .uh . . .cornered me last night in the hallway . . .and she was . . .like panting and drooling all over me . . .Ugh!" He glared angrily at Harry, who was snickering. "It's _not_ funny, damn it! She bloody _kissed_ me! I need to know how to dump a girl in ten days or less, Harry, before I go mental."

Harry schooled his expression into something resembling sympathy, even though he found it hilariously funny that Draco, popular, pureblooded, suave Draco, was having trouble with a persistent girl. "Uh, okay. I'll try and help you out, although maybe you ought to ask somebody who has more experience? I mean, I've never even gone on one date with a girl, or really talked to one except Hermione, and she's my best friend and like my sister, so it doesn't count."

"No way. You're the only one I trust to be let in on this secret, little brother, because I couldn't even imagine telling Dad."

"Me either. All right . . .maybe you could try ignoring her? Like brushing her off?"

"Pansy's kind of hard to brush off. She's like a bulldog with a favorite bone," Draco grimaced.

"You could try being extra snotty to her. You can do that _real_ well."

Draco socked him in the shoulder.

"Hey! What was that for? It's the truth. You've got that whole lord of the manor thing down cold."

Draco rolled his eyes. "That didn't hurt, you big baby. Too bad I'm not the heir to Prince Manor. Then I could make up an excuse that I can't marry beneath me or that I have to marry some fae princess or something."

"Well . . .how would she know if you were lying?" Harry pointed out slyly. "I mean nobody knows the truth except us, Dad, Smidgen, Sarai, and out best friends. You told Crabbe and Goyle about everything, right?"

"Yes. They were cool with it. How about Granger and Weasley?"

"They were kind of shocked, but they don't hate you or anything."

"Brilliant, because the last thing I need is more enemies. Got enough of them right in my own dorm."

"Like who?"

"Nott and Avery were the worst. But I know there are others, some of the older Slytherins who are dark supporters, they're just more subtle about it. They paid me a visit last night, but nothing they tried penetrated the repulsion wards Dad taught me how to cast."

"He taught you how to cast wards? When?"

"Last night after the meeting. Good thing too because like I said, some people aren't too happy I've repudiated Daddy Dearest."

"You mean they tried to hex you?" Harry gaped.

"No, they tried to give me sweets and a bunny plushie," said his brother sarcastically. "Of _course_ they tried to hex me—they're Death eater wannabes!"

"Does Dad know?"

"No, and he isn't going to know," Draco said firmly.

"But Draco—"

"No! I can fight my own battles, Snape! I don't need Dad hovering over me like I was a little baby. He knows how some of the House feels and he warned me to watch my back, not that I wouldn't have any how." Draco told him. "So keep quiet and don't go telling him, okay? Or else I'll tickle torture you again."

"Okay! I'm not a blabbermouth, you know!"

"Sure you are. All little brothers are."

"Bite me, Draco!"

"Temper, baby brother," teased the Slytherin, laughing when Harry's face got red. He loved riling up his brother, it was too funny.

Harry glared at him for a moment, but then his temper died when he recalled what could have happened to Draco last night. "Listen, if you need me, call me and I'll come. You don't need to send a message if it's an emergency. Dad said that as the heir to the manor, I can sense everyone in my family who resides in it, if they've lived there for more than two weeks. And if I needed to, I could hear you when you call me. It's part of the magic of the manor. Blood calls to blood."

"Merlin! I never knew that before! So you can hear me if I call for you? No matter how far away?"

"That's what Dad says. So . . .if you need me, Draco . . .call me. And I'll help kick the arse of whoever's trying to hurt you. 'Cause nobody messes with my older brother."

"Tell that to Pansy," Draco groaned.

"Maybe you should introduce her to Ripper, my Aunt Marge's bulldog," suggested Harry, laughing. "No, that's cruel."

"To whom, Pansy or the dog?" Draco queried, chuckling. "Could be a match made in heaven."

"Ugh! You're warped, Malfoy!"

"Me? _You_ brought it up. Seriously, though, what should I do? She wants me to meet her after class."

"Don't and say you forgot. I don't know."

"That'll only work so long."

"Wait. Maybe if you started showing interest in another girl . . .she might get upset and back off."

"Now that might work . . .except the girl I'm interested in would never give me the time of day." Draco sighed.

"Not necessarily. Try meeting her in the library and starting a conversation about books. 'Mione's book crazy, she'd talk to a dead person about them. And if Pansy sees that . . ."

"I . . .guess it can't hurt. Okay, I'll try it. What time does Grang—Hermione go to the library?"

Harry laughed. "You ought to ask when _doesn't_ she go to the library? She practically sleeps there, some nights."

"So any night is good. Perfect." Draco grinned, then whacked Harry on the back. "Thanks, little brother."

"Don't mention it. Just remember, call if you need me."

"I will, don't freak out, Snape. I'm not a Gryffindor, I don't go in for martyrdom. I'm all for living to fight another day." Draco reassured him. He knew that he could count on Crabbe and Goyle to help him, but Harry was a stronger wizard than they were and he knew _kin-sa-dor_, which gave him an incredible advantage in a fight, magical or non-magical. It was good to have family you could count on.

* * * * * *

Today's potions class they were learning about brewing antidotes. Snape had them pair up with partners from opposite Houses. Draco ended up with Hermione, to her surprise and his secret delight. Pansy looked as though she might cry, or hex Professor Snape. _She_ ended up with poor Neville. Harry was partnered with Blaise and Ron with Crabbe, so it wasn't quite as bad as it could have been. At least neither of those Slytherins hated Harry for being Snape's son or Gryffindors in general.

Harry was working companionably with Zabini, carefully chopping up the lavender buds while Blaise ground up the bicorn horn to a fine powder.

"You're potion making's improved, Po-ah, I mean Snape," Blaise remarked. "It's kind of funny, calling you that. But you really do look like him."

"Well, he _is_ my dad, Zabini," Harry said, a proud note creeping into his tone. He ran his hand through his fine ebony locks, tossing them out of his eyes, they had grown a bit long.

"And you're okay with that?" Blaise queried softly, setting down the pestle.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Why? You got a problem with that?"

"No. Just wondering, I mean, you used to tick him off so much during class last year and now . . .you're his son and you seem like you're proud of it."

"I am proud of it," Harry stated, putting his buds into the slowly simmering cauldron and stirring it ten times clockwise and then one half turn counterclockwise. "Draco and the professor are my family now. And they're a better family than my aunt and uncle ever were."

Blaise nodded. "Good for you, Snape. You're not like most Gryffindors, all stuck up and thinking every Slytherin is a dark wizard waiting to hex them."

"That's 'cause I know better, Zabini. And the same goes for you."

Blaise shrugged. "My parents taught me that I shouldn't judge people till I had all the facts. So I don't. Here, these are ready to be added." He carefully tipped the ground bicorn into the cauldron.

A few cauldrons away, Draco was stirring while Hermione was grinding, doing his best to remain calm and collected even though his heart was racing. It was insane, but Draco had to admit that he liked the way Hermione's hair was so . . .wavy and untamed, like the elvensteed he had ridden in the Deepwood. He wondered idly what it would be like to touch that mass of golden brown hair and immediately turned back to his solution, it was now a pale green, as the manual said it should be.

"That looks good, Malfoy," Hermione remarked, peering over his shoulder at their cauldron.

"Umm . . .yes, it's the correct color and consistency," Draco said, trying not to blush as her breath tickled his cheek. _Oh, Merlin, Hermione! Don't stand so close to me, please!_ He could smell the sweet minty scent of her breath and longed to turn around and say something witty and kind to her, but didn't have the guts. _Coward! What kind of Malfoy is afraid to talk to a . . .Muggleborn?_ one part of his mind taunted. _A good Malfoy,_ answered the other half of his mind. "Do you have the distilled water measured out yet?"

"Yes. We need two cups and then a quarter of a jigger of honey." Hermione turned back to their lab table to get the water, and Draco half-turned about and caught a glimpse of the girl's derriere and smiled to himself. _Nice. Very nice._ He nearly reached out and patted her on the bum before catching himself.

Hermione turned around abruptly, the beaker of distilled water in one hand, and nearly banged right into Draco. "Oh! Sorry!" Their noses were nearly touching and suddenly Hermione was blushing and so was Draco.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but never got the chance to speak because suddenly there came a loud explosion from across the room and the air was filled with a choking, breath-stealing, poisonous green gas.

"Everyone, get out! Now! MOVE!" Severus bellowed, waving his wand to try and contain the dangerous gas that was seeping from two cauldrons on the right side of the room.

Students were panicked and coughing, their throats and noses on fire, as they scrambled for the door.

Draco grabbed up a large towel from his workstation and shoved it at Hermione. "Put this around your face, Hermione!" He tugged a fold of his robe around his own face and pulled Hermione towards the door of the classroom.

Most of the class was out in the corridor by now, milling about like confused sheep. Draco glanced around, saw Weasley coughing into his sleeve, eyes streaming.

"Ron, are you okay?" Hermione asked, going over to him.

"Yeah . . .think so," the other coughed. "Smoke got in my eyes."

"Where's Harry?"

Draco was wondering that himself, for there was no sign of his brother. He stuck his head back inside the room, which was almost half filled with smoke along the right side. His father was standing with his back to the door, chanting furiously, and yelling at Harry.

"Harry Albus Snape, get the bloody hell out of here!"

"No! I'm not leaving you!" Harry cried stubbornly. His eyes were streaming and he was coughing hard.

"Damn you, boy! Go!" Severus roared. "I need to concentrate!"

_Oh, bollocks! Harry, you idiot!_ Draco thought and raced back into the room to grab his stubborn brother by the shoulder and drag him bodily from the lab. "Come on, you stupid arse! Get out so he can concentrate on fixing this bloody mess!"

"Let go of me, Draco!" screamed Harry, terrified that Severus was going to die. "Dad! Dad, come away, please! _Dad_!" he fought Draco, trying to get free of the other's grip.

"Damn it, Harry! Stop!" snarled his brother. But Harry was like a wild thing, and Draco did the only other thing he could think of. He drew back his fist and slugged his brother hard in the jaw.

Harry sagged into his arms then and Draco half-carried him out of the classroom. "Sorry, little brother," he muttered.

Harry groaned then whimpered, "Dad . . .got to save him . . .Draco, we can't leave him . . ."

"We _have_ to," Draco panted, his eyes tearing. "He knows what he's doing . . ." At least Draco prayed that was so. Because if Severus died . . .he would never forgive himself.

Harry leaned woozily against Draco, his jaw throbbing. His brother had one damn good right hook, he thought grudgingly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something vaguely man-shaped run into the classroom. He blinked, wondering if he were seeing things. _What was that? I saw something . . .Smidgen, where are you?_

But the fae cat was not nearby and did not answer.

A few moments later, Professor Snape staggered out the door, and Harry could swear a tall man, a little taller than his father, was holding Severus upright. Severus was coughing violently, his hair plastered over one side of his face, his one visible eye tearing and burning.

"What . . .are you all doing standing about . . .like a bunch of . . .ninnies for? All of you . . .report to the infirmary . . ." he ordered inbetween spasms. He started to sag, and Draco thrust Harry at Ron.

"Here, hold him." Draco snapped, waiting till the startled red-head had grasped his friend before turning and giving Snape his shoulder to lean on. "Come on, Professor. You need to get to the infirmary too."

Snape's arm came about his shoulder and gripped hard, and slowly, the students and their injured professor made their way down to the Hospital Wing, shadowed by a certain violet-eyed vampire, who was unaware that one young wizard had seen him before he put up his veils again.

**Yay, I've updated . . .finally! Hope you enjoy this one!**

**Next: Poppy has an influx of patients and Harry tells Draco about the mysterious figure he saw in the doorway.**

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	4. Recovering

**Recovering**

By the time Severus, Harry, and Draco had made it to the infirmary, Poppy had already treated most of the students for minor smoke inhalation and sent them back to class, or dosed them with Calming Draughts and sent them back to their dorm for a lie down after informing their professor what had happened. This was not the first such crisis Poppy had ever had to deal with from an exploded potion, though such had not happened in Snape's class since his first year as a teacher. Severus was normally extremely careful and watchful, but even the best teachers could have an off day.

Draco was gasping a bit when they finally crossed the threshold of the Hospital Wing, but he was more concerned for his father, who seemed to be having difficulty breathing. Severus's face was pale and his breath rasped horribly in his throat. _He must have inhaled some of those damn fumes, I'll bet,_ Draco thought, even as he yelled for the mediwitch. "Madam Pomfrey! We need you over here! Professor Snape's in a bad way."

Severus shot his blond-haired son an irritated look. "Must you announce . . .my condition . . .to the entire school . . .like a public crier, Draco?"

Draco flushed, but before he could respond, Poppy was there. She waved her wand over the professor, said briskly, "Well, Severus, you've almost suffocated yourself this time. It's bed and an atomizer of Lung Repair for you. Come along now." She pointed her wand and Snape was hovering in the air. "Let him go, Mr. Malfoy, and have a seat over there next to Mr. Snape and I'll get to you in a minute."

Draco obeyed, watching in amusement as Poppy scolded his father in a low voice for not leaving immediately when the cauldrons exploded. "Really, Severus, do you think you have an immunity to toxic substances? The children . . .oh, well . . .that's understandable . . .but you should have called for help . . ."

Severus replied, but Draco couldn't catch it, it was too low. He turned and seated himself next to his brother, who was still looking rather shell-shocked. "You all right, Harry? I didn't hit you that hard, did I?"

"No. But what about Dad? He . . .didn't look so good. Is he going to be okay?"

"Yeah, Madam Pomfrey's taking care of him, and if it were really bad, she'd send him to St. Mungos, so I guess he's going to be all right. She's fussing over him and giving him potions right now." Draco reassured his brother, who bore a terrible anxiety in his green eyes. "We can see him after she checks us out, I'd say."

"Good." Harry said, then he started to cough again, harsh wracking coughs that shook his slight frame.

"You're not too good yourself, kid," Draco observed, holding Harry's shoulder to keep him from toppling over.

"He must have gotten a noseful of whatever that stuff was," Ron said from Harry's other side. "It was good that you went back in and got him, Malfoy."

"What, you think I was just going to leave him there?" Draco snapped. "He's my brother, Weasley! He was worried about our father, that's why he wouldn't leave, the stubborn arse. He gets that way sometimes."

"You're telling me," Ron sighed. "That why you belted him one?"

"Had to, he was fighting me like crazy." Draco said, somewhat defensively.

"Maybe you knocked some sense into him," Ron remarked, and Harry shot him a dirty look. "My brothers would have done the same to me." He eyed Malfoy thoughtfully. "Guess you're all right . . .Draco."

Draco snorted. "Glad I meet with your approval, Weasley."

Harry was glad that the two weren't going off on each other and thought that at least the potions explosion had done one good thing—it had made Ron see Draco in a whole new light. He wiped his burning eyes on his sleeve, they felt gritty and hot.

Poppy reappeared, ran a diagnostic over them, pronounced Ron well and told him to return to class, he tried to protest, but she shooed him out of the infirmary anyhow. Draco she dosed with a light Decongestion Draft and said he too could go back to class.

"But, Madam Pomfrey, my father and brother—"

"Will be fine in a day or two, Mr. Malfoy. Your quick thinking probably saved their lives. Go on now, they'll be sleeping in a bit, you can come visit after classes."

"But—"

He was interrupted by a hoarse voice. "Draco, do what she says."

Draco huffed, then said reluctantly, "Yes, sir. But soon as I'm done with school I'll be back."

He departed the infirmary, leaving his brother to the tender mercies of Poppy Pomfrey. The mediwitch rolled up her sleeves, then led Harry over to a bed next to his father and handed him a set of hospital pajamas. Harry made a face, he hated spending time in the Hospital Wing, but he put on the nightwear without a fuss, observing slyly that Poppy had even managed to get his father out of his black robes for once. _Wonder how she did that? Maybe she charmed them on him?_

Severus was lying on the bed beside him, a mask over his face attached to a small clear tube with a vial on the end of it. The top of the vial had a pump with a green ball on the end of it, like a fancy perfume bottle, that the professor squeezed every so often. An orange potion was sprayed up the tube and into the mask for Severus to inhale.

"Do you see that atomizer your father is using, Mr. Snape?" asked Poppy briskly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"You'll be getting one too, it contains a Lung Repair potion you need to inhale, since whatever potion exploded created a toxic gas which damaged the inside of your throat and lungs, though you're not half as bad as your father." She set several vials down on the folding nightstand and said, "Are your eyes stinging and burning, Mr. Snape?"

"Yes."

"Figured as much. Lie down and remove your glasses. I need to put a potion in your eyes."

Harry obeyed, allowing Madam Pomfrey to place several drops of a soothing clear potion in his eyes which cleared them up and made them quit hurting. "Better now?" she inquired kindly. "You'll be getting another dose later on." She then made him drink a Pain Reliever, a Decongestion Draft, and then instructed him on how to use the atomizer with the Lung Repair potion. "You are to breathe in this potion every two breaths until it is empty. It will probably make you slightly sleepy."

"Madam Pomfrey, will my dad be all right?"

"Well, Harry, he was rather badly injured from the corrosive fumes, but with rest and potions he should be fine within three days. So don't fret, child." She patted his shoulder, gave him a drink of water, then helped him set up the atomizer.

The potion left a slightly odd taste in his mouth as he breathed it in, but it was not unpleasant. As he lay there, looking up at the ceiling, he recalled the strange figure he had seen standing behind his father in the doorway.

The man had been tall, dark, and quite handsome, and Harry recalled something else. . .the man's canines had been enlarged, like fangs, almost like a . . .vampire. Harry snorted at his own foolishness. A vampire at Hogwarts. Draco's tap on the jaw must have made him see things. Except . . .he was certain he had seen someone helping his father . . .but a _vampire_? Was there such a thing as a good vampire?

He concentrated on breathing in the potion, looking over at his father, who had finished his draft and was now sleeping. _You're going to be okay, Dad. Thank God!_ _How did that potion explode? Was it really an accident? Or was it deliberate? Gotta talk to Draco later. _

He managed to finish the vial before drifting off to sleep. Madam Pomfrey came by and gently removed the atomizer and re-cast a diagnostic. Harry's lungs were nearly mended. She smiled and ruffled his hair before leaving him to sleep.

* * * * * *

Harry woke to find Severus watching him, his dark eyes bright with concern. "Hey, Dad."

"How are you feeling, son?"

"Okay. How about you?"

"I have been better." Severus admitted. He sighed and said sternly, "Why did you not leave when I ordered you to, Harry? You wouldn't have been injured by the smoke or gas if you had done what I told you."

"I know, Dad, but . . .I didn't want to leave you alone," he admitted in a small voice. "I knew it was bad . . . that whatever had exploded was poisonous . . .but I just . . ." He turned his head away to hide the sudden tears.

"What? You just what?" his father asked in a somewhat gentler tone.

" . . .I was afraid you were going to die," Harry mumbled into his pillow, embarrassed that he was behaving like some crybaby now that everything was going to be all right.

"Excuse me? I couldn't understand what you said. Turn around and look at me."

"Never mind. It's stupid. _I'm_ stupid. Just forget it."

"Harry, look at me." Severus ordered, exasperated. "You are not stupid."

Harry stubbornly kept his face turned away, half-buried in the pillow.

Half a minute later he felt a hand on his shoulder, tugging him firmly about until he was staring up at his father, who was sitting on the edge of his bed, wearing a set of plain white pajamas. "Harry, I would like you to talk to me. You could have died, young man, and I would hope you had a good reason for risking your life other than you were stupid."

Harry felt himself flush. "It doesn't matter. Am I in trouble?"

"No, but you will be if you don't explain yourself."

"You'll laugh at me. It was dumb, can't you just forget it?"

"Was it, perhaps, because you were trying to save me?"

"Yes . . .I told you it was stupid . . .you didn't need my help . . .I made things worse . . .I was afraid you were going to die . . .but you aren't now. . ."

"You were afraid I was going to die, so you stayed behind?"

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Harry Albus Snape—" began Severus, half-angrily. Then he stopped, because scolding would not help and he really couldn't fault his son for wanting to save him. "Foolish boy, don't you know that I remained behind because of you? That I would never leave you in danger?"

"I'm sorry . . ."

"Don't apologize. You're a Gryffindor, phoenix, it's your nature to be a blasted hero. And it's mine to keep you safe at all costs. We're a pair of fools," the Potions Master said wryly. Then he pulled his astonished son into a hug. "I would do anything for my family. And so would you, I see. And Draco. Such is the legacy of Prince Manor." He held Harry for a long moment before drawing away and taking his son's chin in one hand. "However, I will ask you to remember that when I give you an order, it is for your own good, and you should not hesitate to obey it, Harry. I have handled many such potions accidents before and I knew what to do, but having you in the room made me hesitate and broke my concentration."

His son hung his head. "Sorry, sir. I was just afraid . . ."

"I know, but next time trust me. I have no desire to die a martyr, Harry. I wish to live a long life with my family—you, Draco, and Sarai."

"That's good to hear, Severus, but unless you get back in your bed, you might be in danger of expiring." Madam Pomfrey scolded.

Severus eyed her irritably. "How so, madam?"

"Because I might be tempted to kill you for acting like a stubborn dunderhead and not following my orders, Professor Snape. I specifically told you to stay in bed until I said you could get up, your lungs still aren't mended and you need to rest in order to repair them."

Severus's eyebrows climbed into his hair, and Harry clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. Listening to Madam Pomfrey scolding his father as if he were a first year was just too funny.

"I was speaking with my son, he was worried about my condition. I didn't realize I needed your permission to talk to my child," Severus began sarcastically.

"Never you mind, Severus," the matron scolded. "As long as you are under my care, you agree to follow my rules. Now get back to bed before you overexert yourself."

"How is sitting here overexerting myself?" grumbled the Potions Master, shooting her a baleful look before rising and moving back to his vacant bed.

"Lie down, Severus," Poppy ordered, and to Harry's amusement, his father actually obeyed the small mediwitch, though not without some muttered explicatives under his breath. Poppy ran her wand over him, declared that he was still congested and part of his lungs were still damaged and he needed more of the Lung Repair Elixir, a Pain Reliever, and another potion that would cleanse his bronchial passages.

In five minutes she had the professor outfitted with another atomizer and mask, and though he shot the mediwitch a death glare for fussing over him in front of his son, Severus did not fight her treatment. He had enough healing knowledge to know that Poppy's treatment was spot on, and what he would have prescribed himself. So he submitted to her ministrations, albeit with a few scowls that fooled neither the mediwitch nor his son.

But Harry wasn't smirking a moment later, when Poppy came to examine him and said he too need another dose of Lung Repair Elixir, another eyewash, and more bed rest as well. "But Madam Pomfrey . . .I feel fine!"

"You and your father are very much alike, Mr. Snape. Both of you don't know how to take proper care of yourself, you would push yourself till you drop dead and then wonder why." She summoned another atomizer and attached it to the vial of potion before handing the mask set-up to Harry to put on. Groaning, Harry took it and placed it over his face. Five seconds later, he was breathing in the potion.

"Twenty minutes, gentlemen, then I'll come back and you can have breakfast." Poppy declared, then she departed to eat her own morning meal, leaving the two alone in the infirmary.

Alone, except for the watchful vampire and the shimmerling who blinked into the room a moment later.

_:Master Harry! Master Severus! Are you all right? How did this happen?_ Smidgen cried, her violet eyes whirling in distress.

Severus sent her his theory, that the explosions were not an accident, but a clear plan to sabotage him as a teacher and perhaps even kill him and his sons. The shimmerling hissed, all of her fur standing on end. _:If ever I discover who did this to you, Wizard Severus, he shall know what it means to arouse the wrath of a fae creature!:_

Unseen in the corner of the infirmary, Phil's eyes also blazed violet sparks, and his hands tightened into fists. _And **my** wrath as well, cat-kin! No one, and I mean **no one** harms my family and gets off. If I ever discover who is behind this mishap, that one will beg for mercy before I am done, youngling or not. _The Nightwalker's jaw was clenched hard, though his iron expression softened as he looked at both Snapes, older and younger, lying in the beds. _They look so fragile, so . . .mortal. I have lived several centuries and seen many whom I cared for and called friend and relative die, but even so, there is a core of steel within them that others I have known lacked. Were I to be in a battle to the death, I would prefer them at my side than any other, even another vampire. They would be most formidable opponents._

Smidgen turned her head to stare at the spot where Phil was, veiled so strongly that only she could catch a glimpse of his shadow and nothing more, despite her dreamweaver's sight. _:Indeed. Severus is a fine Defense Master and he knows the art of being a shadow as well. And he has begun to teach young Harry as well, and his son has proven to be an apt pupil._ _Both of his sons,:_ she amended, recalling Snape's blond fosterling.

Phil gave her a slight bow. _But of course, little shimmerling. They are Snapes and Princes, and I would expect nothing less from them. Even so, they are not invulnerable, and I fear for their safety if the one who caused this is not found._

Smidgen did also, and asked whether Phil would help her search about the lab and maybe pick up some clues, or even a scent, though the trail was cold and most of the intruder's scent had probably been smothered by the smoke from the explosion.

_It would be my honor, Lady Smidgen,_ Phil sent gallantly, with an old-fashioned courtesy that had died out in these modern times. _But let us delay the search until the healer returns from her morning meal._

Smidgen agreed, then blinked away to procure her own food from the house elves, who were Low Court fae and eager to serve a high ranking messenger of the Seelie Court with whatever she might desire to eat.

Phil remained vigilant, as an ancient vampire he could go for days without hunting, and then he only hunted those who bore the taint of evil within them, the stench was easily percieved by his ultrasensitive nose, and he regarded it as doing the people and the world a favor by ridding them of dangerous parasite and predators.

* * * * * *

Poppy returned, gave her patients breakfast, and then followed that up with a Sleeping Draught, much to Severus and Harry's disgust. But she was deaf to their protests and had them drink the draft to ensure that they got the rest they needed.

Shimmerling and vampire watched in amusement as the little mediwitch bossed the two more powerful wizards around, like a typical healer, and once their charges were asleep, decided to leave and explore the lab to see what clues might be found there.

Phil could move almost as fast as Smidgen could blink, and arrived at the lab moments after the dreamweaver, who was sneezing and wrinkling her nose in disgust at the acrid aroma.

"Careful," Phil warned. "Some of that toxic substance might still be lingering in the air. You should not breathe it in."

_:I shall not. Even a green apprentice knows how to cast a Bubblehead charm:_ Smidgen mewed, and proceeded to do so, surrounding herself with an invisible coating of air.

Then she flew into the lab, her sharp eyes alert for anything that might tell them what had caused the explosion in the first place.

Phil bent over the cauldrons, examining them closely, muttering as he did so.

The shimmerling sniffed about, trying to discern the scent of those who had been nearest the cauldron before it exploded, but the awful odor of the gas masked any scent that might have once been there, as she had feared.

So she waited for Phil to conclude his findings, tail twitching impatiently.

After about twenty minutes, the vampire straightened. "This was no accident. I am no mean potions student myself, and I can tell that this substance was not created by misreading a potions text. I know the draft they were working on, I could hear them talking through the door, I have very keen hearing. There is no way on God's green earth that this could be the result of adding the wrong ingredient at the wrong moment. Because there is nothing in the antidote that is volatile enough to explode and produce chlorine gas."

_:Aye, it was deliberate, I suspected as much. But how can we find out who it was? I could not place the scent of those who used this cauldron.:_

"My nose is a bit sharper than yours, Smidgen. I can smell fear and a desire for revenge coming from this student—students, actually for there was more than one."

_:Can you hunt him down?:_

"Does a bear love honey?" laughed the vampire. "I will know the scent again when I smell it and then . . ." Phil bared his fangs, and suddenly he looked menacing and terrifying as only a vampire could.

Smidgen shivered and thanked the Goddess of the Wood for making her a shimmerling and therefore not on Phil's hit list. Whoever had harmed his family was going to pay.

Phil licked his lips, struggling to keep himself in check. Now was not the time to go off the deep end. He could go and find every one of those people like the one who hurt Harry and tear them apart. But he restrained himself. He locked away the whimpering and begging self and just walked away.

Meanwhile, Draco had come in to keep Harry company as well and it was then that Harry recalled the strange figure he had see in the doorway of the potions class, holding up his father. "Uh, Draco, what do you remember about the potions class?"

"Besides our dad nearly biting it and me holding you up so you didn't pass out? Not much. Why?"

"Because . . .you're going to think I'm crazy, but I'm not—Just for a moment, I thought I saw . . .someone behind Dad, dressed in a suit and tie. And he . . .had fangs, Draco."

"Fangs? Harry, I think you overdosed on the pain killer," laughed Draco. "How would a vampire get in the school?"

"I dunno . . .but I _know_ he was a vampire. Draco, please, you've got to believe me."

But Draco just shook his head, he had enough of supernatural beings. Besides, everyone knew vampires couldn't get past the wards. "Go to sleep, little brother. Come morning, you'll be good as new."

"Draco . . ."

"Hush. Just get some rest. Things will be different in the morning."

"I know what I saw!" Harry argued. "It wasn't my imagination!"

"Little brother, I hit you pretty hard. Anybody would be seeing things after that." Draco pointed out. Harry scowled mulishly. "C'mon, Harry. Bloodsuckers can't get past the wards, unless they're invited or they're not radiating an evil aura, and whoever heard of a good vampire?"

"I'm telling you . . .he saved Dad's life!"

"And I'm telling _you_, keep your voice down, before you get Pomfrey the Dragon on your arse and wake up Dad." Draco argued. "Maybe you'd like to explain to him what you saw while your head was spinning, hmmm?"

"Ah, shut up, Draco!" Harry groaned, still tired and out-of-sorts. Could the other wizard be right and he had just imagined it? But it had seemed so real! Harry clasped the Medallion of Inheritance in his hand and felt the silver amulet send a comforting wave of warmth through him. He yawned and felt his eyes drift shut, even though he could have sworn he wasn't tired.

Draco smirked knowingly and muttered, "Fever dreams," before playfully cuffing the sleeping heir to Prince Manor and walking out of the infirmary and back to his afternoon classes. Vampires! His brother was so gullible sometimes!

**So, how did you like this one?**

**Review and let me know!**


	5. Ambushed!

**Ambushed!**

Madam Pomfrey proclaimed Harry well enough to go back to class the next morning, his lungs were clear and his eyes no longer stung or burned. Harry was so excited to be released he felt like doing a victory dance. But Severus was not so lucky. Him she wished to keep for the day for observation, making her colleague scowl and grumble like an annoyed dragon.

"I feel perfectly fine, Poppy."

"Never you mind, Severus Snape!" she scolded, waving a reproving finger at the Potions Master. "Feeling fine and being fine are two different things. And you were injured worse than your boy here, so you need more rest and an extra dose of Lung Repair. I won't have it said I sent a patient of mine back to work without being fully cured." Then she put the atomizer back on him, effectively silencing any more protests for the time being.

Severus shot her a death glare while her back was turned.

Harry chuckled, and his father glared at him too. "Tough luck, Dad. Well, guess I'd better get on to class. I'll bring you a chocolate frog, okay?"

Severus removed the mask and growled, "Get, you cheeky brat! And mind you collect all your missed assignments from every teacher, including my substitute."

"Yes, sir," Harry groaned, hoping that there wasn't too much homework to make up, since it was only the first week of class.

Then he slipped out of the infirmary at something more dignified than a run, but swifter than a walk, just in case Madam Pomfrey changed her mind and decided to keep him in there.

On the way to Gryffindor Tower to collect his bookbag he met Ron and Hermione, who were just coming down to go to breakfast in the hall.

"Harry, you're better!" Hermione exclaimed happily. "I'm so glad, we were worried that those fumes had damaged your lungs and you'd need surgery."

"No, I'm okay now. It was my dad who got the worst of it," Harry said, waving his wand to call his bookbag from his room.

"How is your dad, mate?" Ron asked quietly.

"Oh, he's almost better too, but Pomfrey wants to keep him for observation. As a precaution, she says." He caught his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "He was lucky . . .it could have been much worse, like Hermione says."

"Well . . .it's good that he's going to be all right. He might not be my favorite professor, mate, but nobody deserves something like that to happen." Ron said. "I wonder who it was that screwed up their potion this time?"

"It wasn't Neville," Hermione said. "He was next to us and I would have noticed. It came from the other side of the room. Thank goodness no one else was too badly hurt."

Harry nodded tightly. While he agreed with Hermione, he couldn't help thinking that the explosion had been aimed at his father, brother, and himself. But since he had no proof, he couldn't even mention that aloud. "Whoever it was better start praying that my dad never finds out, otherwise they'll be in detention till next year, probably."

"Ain' t that the truth," Ron chuckled. "And Merlin, am I glad this wasn't me." He slanted a glance at Hermione. "And I know it sure as blazes wasn't you or Draco, since you two are like the best potion makers in that class."

"Hey, I'm not so bad at potions either since Dad tutored me over the summer," Harry informed his friend. "I actually . . .kind of like brewing now."

Ron looked thunderstruck. "Aww . . .bloody hell! He's converted you!"

"Converted me? You act like I've joined a cult or something." Harry chuckled.

"You have, mate. The cult of Snape's Potions Prodigies," Ron groaned. "Now who do I have to complain to about how much I hate potions?"

"Talk to Neville." Harry suggested. Then his stomach growled rather loudly.

"Looks like someone's hungry," Hermione giggled.

"Yeah, I am, so let's go and eat." He turned away, and Smidgen blinked in and hovered over his shoulder for a moment before touching down lightly upon him.

_:Hello, Harry! I am delighted to see you up and about this morning! How are you feeling?:_

_Okay, I guess. Dad's still in the Hospital Wing though, under observation for the rest of the day._

_:Ah, well, he did absorb more of that foul smoke into his system than you did, so it stands to reason that he would take longer to recover. But he **will** recover, Harry.:_ Smidgen reassured him, purring softly into his mind.

_I know. He promised me,_ Harry sent back and brought up a finger to gently stroke the shimmerling under the chin. Smidgen purred aloud then, and the sound sent a feeling of peace through him.

After breakfast, Harry went to all of his classes, and tried to concentrate on the material, luckily Hermione had gotten all his missed homework for him, and he planned on doing it back in the Hospital Wing to keep his father company. He asked Smidgen to relay a message to Draco and tell his foster brother to meet him in the Hospital Wing after supper so they could stay with their father until he was well.

_:Draco says he shall meet you beside the knight statue in the Entrance Hall,:_ Smidgen informed him, having contacted the other youngster using her telepathic gift.

"Good. Now I just need to get my spare writing case and I'll be set," Harry said, returning to Gryffindor Tower.

Just before he reached the stairs leading up to the tower, Peeves appeared, and began to insult him loudly. "Poor little Snapey, nearly got blown away! Better be careful, baby Snape, you never know who might be watching and waiting for you!"

"Bugger off, Peeves!" Harry growled, in no mood for the poltergeist's banter.

Smidgen's fur stood on end. _:Ghost, what mean you? Do you know who was behind the disaster in the classroom? If so, speak now!:_

"Speak? Like a dog do you mean, catkin? I am no dog, to sit up and beg."

_:I will make you beg, spirit!:_ Smidgen hissed angrily, her violet eyes glittering with suppressed temper, her small tail lashing wildly. _:Tell me, if you know, Sir Taunts-A-Lot, or are you all hot air?:_

"Me? Hot air? Ai, Lady Dreamweaver, you wound me! Your claws have drawn my heart's blood, and now I am fading . . .I'm fading . . .!" Peeves made as if to fade away and spun about, cackling.

_:Oh no you don't, you wicked specter! Come back here, Annoying One!:_ the dreamweaver growled, and then she soared off of Harry's shoulder to chase the poltergeist down the corridor.

"Good luck, Smidgen," Harry said, thinking that if anyone could catch the slick poltergeist, it was Smidgen. He turned and went up the stairs and into the portrait hole.

The common room was full of students studying, Katie Bell looked up from her Herbology notes and smiled at him. "Hey, Harry. You look like you could wrestle a giant. Feeling better?"

"Yeah, I'm fine now." Harry reassured her. He smiled back at her, feeling himself blush a little. Katie was a year older than he was and she was one of the best Chasers ever to fly a broom. She was also, he noticed abruptly, quite pretty, with her warm chestnut brown hair and sparkling blue eyes, tall and fit. "I should be back to practice by Saturday."

"Good. I'm glad," she said simply, and he could see that she really meant it and was not just mouthing a platitude. "I'll see you Saturday then. Oh, and how's Professor Snape? Will he be back to teach tomorrow?"

_She's got a nice smile, funny how I never noticed that before, with all the Quidditch I've played with her. But then again, I wasn't looking at her mouth, just the Snitch. _He blushed and then said, "Yeah, he should be all right by tomorrow, Pomfrey's just being cautious. Why? Who's the substitute for potions?"

Katie made a face. "Some wizard who looks as old as Dumbledore, named Muggwort. He's like a hundred or something, going deaf, and he drones on and on about the properties of shrivelfigs and the benefits of drinking a juice pressed from them that relieves gas and constipation. I feel like I'm trapped in a room with my great-grandmother Emelia. We haven't brewed anything since Professor Snape got hurt, and I was really looking forward to this term, we were supposed to learn how to brew Strengthening Drafts."

"Yuck! Sounds like he ought to be retired," Harry sympathized. "Don't worry, my dad should be back by tomorrow. I didn't know you liked potions, Katie."

Katie nodded. "I do. I'm in his advanced class, you know."

"Yeah, she's the potions expert for her year," Lee Jordan remarked. "Bell the Brewer."

Katie rolled her eyes. "Jordan, you make me sound like I make beer or ale, for Merlin's sake." She tossed her hair out of her eyes with an irritated flick.

"Nothing wrong with that, girl," chimed in Fred from a table behind her. "I could use a cold one right about now, it's smoking in here."

"Me too," agreed George, mopping the sweat from his brow.

"Well, then you'll have to make your own, boys, I've a test to study for," Katie said, indicating her notes with one finger.

"Ah, you're no fun anymore, Bell," sulked Lee. "Ever since you decided you want to become a Potions Mistress, you've turned into Miss Ultra Serious and Boring."

"You want to become a Potions Mistress?" Harry repeated.

Katie nodded. "Yes. I asked Professor Snape and he agreed to let me start my internship early, if I can pass all my classes this term." Her eyes were shining.

"Now why would you want to spend all your time stuck in a dungeon stirring a cauldron with the Dungeon Bat?" mocked Cormac MacLaggen.

Harry's eyes flashed. "Watch how you talk about my father, MacLaggen!"

Cormac sneered at him. "Oooh, you gonna tattle on me . . ._Snape_?"

"Shut it, you bumblehead!" Katie snapped. "For your information, Cormac, I'm honored to study with our Potions Master—he's the best in his field in Britain or in Europe. And I'd rather put up with his sarcasm than with a senile old coot who can't tell a bezoar stone from a moonstone." She turned back to Harry. "Ignore him, Harry. He's nothing but a frustrated little toerag trying to pretend he's all grown up."

"Hey!" Cormac cried.

Harry grinned. "I'll tell him you were asking about him, Katie. Gotta run, I've got tons of homework." He started to go up to his dorm room.

"Yeah and if he doesn't get it done, dear old dad will ground his arse or turn him into a flobberworm," Cormac brayed.

Harry halted, his fists clenched. _MacLaggen, you stupid bugger . . .!_

But before he could go and confront the other boy, he heard Katie snap, "I wish he'd turn _you_ into a jackass, MacLaggen, because you sure as hell act like one! _Silencio!_"

Harry smirked. _Thanks, Katie._ He went to fetch his writing case, happy that at least a few of his Housemates were willing to give his father the benefit of the doubt.

He stuffed his case into his bag and then walked back downstairs to the common room, where he saw Katie's head bent over her text, smirking slightly, and Cormac opening and shutting his mouth like a landed fish, unable to speak because of Katie's hex. She looked up as he went by and gave him a thumbs-up sign, which he returned before slipping out of the portrait hole.

_Cute and smart, maybe I ought to get to know her better outside of Quidditch,_ Harry thought, and whistled happily as he made his way down the stairs. He was so absorbed in thinking about Katie and hoping that his father was recovering that he nearly banged into Percy, who was coming up the stairs. "Oh! Excuse me, Percy!"

"Snape. Just the person I was looking for," Percy drawled. He sounded arrogant and unfriendly.

"What's up?"

"I want to have a word with you, Snape." Percy began coldly.

Harry frowned. "Okay. I'm here. What's this all about?"

"It's about you corrupting my little brother with your snake sympathies," Percy said, his voice like ice. "I want you to stay away from him, Snape."

"What for? He's my friend!" Harry cried angrily.

"Weasleys aren't friends with Slytherins! Or members of their families."

"I'm not a Slytherin, Percy, I'm a Gryffindor," snapped Harry. "And even if I wasn't, who are you to say who Ron can be friends with? I'm still the same person I was when I started here, even if I do know the truth about my real dad and use my real name now. What are you saying, Weasley, I'm not good enough to associate with your family because I'm a Snape now?"

"Yes, that's _exactly_ what I'm saying! My little brother shouldn't associate with kids of Death Eaters."

"My dad is _not_ a Death Eater, you stupid arse!" Harry growled, stabbing his finger into Percy's chest. "He was never a Death Eater, he was a spy!"

"You can believe that if you want, Snape." Percy sneered. "But I know the truth! He would have been in Azkaban if not for Dumbledore vouching for him. Wonder what he promised the old coot? A Youth Potion? Maybe a Clarifying Draft? Or maybe he agreed to let the old boy cop a feel every once in awhile when he was hard up for some ass? Because we all know how our dear Headmaster fancies a tight—Oww!"

He never finished his sentence because Harry's fist slammed into his lip.

"Shut your filthy mouth, Weasley!" Harry spat, his green eyes burning with barely leashed fury. "Don't you _ever_ speak such disgusting lies about my father again, you hear me? My dad is a good and honorable man and he would _never_ lower himself to make a deal like that and neither would the Headmaster! He risked his life for people like you, Weasley, unappreciative, narrow-minded, stupid imbeciles who can't find their arses with both hands and a map! Because he knew you'd be easy prey for Voldemort and he was doing his job, protecting arseholes like you! Sometimes I wonder why he bothered!"

Percy was holding a handkerchief to his mouth, mumbling and whimpering about his tooth being broken.

"Quit whining, you big baby! I didn't hit you hard enough to break anything. But I will if you keep on talking trash about my dad. And if Ron wants to be my friend that's his choice, not yours, so just suck up and deal with it."

And with that, Harry spun on his heel and continued down the stairs to meet his brother by the knight statue.

He found Draco waiting, tapping his foot against the floor. "What took you so long?"

"Had a bit of a rodent problem to settle first," Harry said shortly, rubbing his hand surreptitiously.

Draco eyed him knowingly. "You're mad as blazes. What did you do, punch someone out?"

"How did you know that?"

"You're rubbing your right hand and you only do that if you've just clocked somebody in the jaw. I studied _kin-sa-dor_ with you, remember? So, who did you hit?"

"An arsehole. Percy Weasley."

Draco sniggered. "He must have been crying 'cause you got blood on his robes, the big dandy. Why? What did he do?"

"Told me to stop seeing Ron because I was tainted by being a Snape and your brother. And then he accused Dad of being a Death Eater and a . . .boy toy selling himself to Dumbledore."

"He _what_?" Draco yelled. "Where is he, the bloody coward? I'm going to break his face!"

Harry grabbed his brother by the back of his robe before he could charge up the stairs. "Hey, Draco, calm down! I've taken care of it. If he steps out of line again, I'll let you take him down, but he's inside Gryffindor Tower now and you don't want to start something you can't finish, Dragon."

Draco halted and thought it over. "You're right, damn it all. But if he starts anything next time . . .his arse is mine, little brother." Then he quirked his mouth at Harry. "What's with calling me Dragon?"

"Dad does sometimes, so I just . . .figured you wouldn't mind."

"I don't, long as you don't call me that where anyone could hear." Draco said.

"I won't. And you can call me Phoenix if you want, like Dad does."

"Okay. C'mon, let's go and see Dad," Draco said and they walked together to the Hospital Wing.

* * * * * *

Harry told Severus about Katie's well-wishes, and how she was eager to see him back where he belonged, in his classroom. Though Severus didn't come right out and say it, Harry and Draco could tell that he was pleased by Katie's words, and they spent a quiet evening together, the boys doing homework and then discussing _kin-sa-dor_ with their father.

"I'll see about starting up your lessons again in a week or two, after I catch up on my classwork," Severus told them. "We can use the Room of Requirement to practice, it should serve as well as my practice salon at Prince Manor."

"Where's that?" asked Draco, his gray eyes puzzled.

"On the seventh floor. It will appear whenever a professor or student needs it," Severus explained. "You will see when it's time." He checked his watch. "It's nearly curfew, boys. Best get back to your dorms."

Both boys stood up and hugged him and told him good night.

"See you tomorrow in class, Dad," Harry called over his shoulder.

"I'll be there, Harry. Go on, get some sleep, son," Severus ordered, smiling. "You too, Dragon."

"Okay, Dad." Draco said, then followed his brother out of the room.

"Well, I'm ready to hit the hay," said Harry, yawning.

Draco threw him a puzzled look. "Hit the hay?"

"Muggle expression." Harry laughed. "It means I'm really tired and need to get to sleep."

"Muggles have strange expressions," his wizard-raised brother said.

"So do wizards," Harry told him.

They had nearly reached the stairs leading to the dungeons, and Draco was just about to bid goodnight to his brother when he felt a warning shudder of danger go up his spine. "Harry . . ." he hissed, drawing his wand.

An instant later, three wizards appeared out of the shadows, they had been lurking in the nearby small chamber where the first years waited to be Sorted. Harry drew his wand as well, for the three were no friends of his. They were Nott, Avery, and MacLaggen. The three spread out in a semi-circle, preventing the two brothers from moving either down to the Slytherin common room or up to Gryffindor Tower.

"What's this, lads? Out for a little late night stroll, are you?" drawled Nott, his dark eyes narrowed nastily, reminding Harry of a wild boar he'd seen in the Deepwood.

"What's it to you, Nott?" Draco asked, glaring at his Housemates. "Shove off and let us by."

"Oh ho, listen to the little cockatrice crow!" sniggered Avery. "You really think you're somebody, don't you, Malfoy? You think that because your daddy's locked up in Azkaban and you chose that traitor Snape over him, that you're cock of the walk now. Well, I've got news for you, pretty boy! You're nothing but a snitch and a ruddy coward, and we're here to show you what happens to backstabbers, Malfoy!"

All three had their wands pointed at Draco and Harry.

"Think so?" sneered Draco. "I don't." And with that he lunged at the other boy in a classic snap kick learned from Severus.

The _kin-sa-dor_ move caught Avery totally by surprise, since most wizards fought with magic, not their fists and feet. But Draco was no ordinary wizard.

His foot slammed into Avery's wand hand, breaking his fingers and knocking his wand from his hand.

Avery howled, clutching his hand. "Bastard! You broke my fingers!"

Draco ignored him, spinning about to defend himself from MacLaggen's hex.

Only to find that his brother had already beat him to the punch, casting a swift Disarming charm. "Expelliarmus!"

MacLaggen was blown halfway across the corridor.

Then Harry chanted a quick Body Bind. "Petrificus Totalus!"

"Good one, Harry," Draco praised, then lifted his wand to duel Nott.

Only to find that Nott was hanging in midair, gasping and kicking, his hands going to his collar, trying to loosen the strangling cloth. He was making small mewling noises.

Draco and Harry just stared. What was happening?

An instant later they had their answer, as a tall dark-haired man with burning violet eyes appeared from behind Nott, one hand gripping the teen's robes effortlessly.

"Draco!" Harry gasped. "That's _him_! The one who saved Dad in the potions classroom! The . . .vampire!" he hissed.

Draco was about to cry that vampires would never be able to get into the castle, but the words died in his throat.

For the dark man had spun the gasping, bug-eyed Nott about and was holding him at arm's length, his lips drawn back to reveal sharp fangs, his eyes shifting eerily from brilliant violet to a bloody crimson. "_You!_ You are one of those who tampered with your cauldron and caused it to explode, nearly killing Severus, Draco, and Harry!" spat the furious vampire.

Nott stuttered, trying desperately to get in enough air to speak. But Philip did not relinquish his hold. So Nott shook his head, whimpering unintelligibly.

"Don't bother to deny it, boy! I smelled your scent upon the cauldron, and I know that particular combination could not have been caused by any . . .accident. It was a deliberate tampering of ingredients designed to cause a harmful explosion. You meant to kill members of my _family_!" hissed Phil, shaking the petrified Nott like a hound would shake a rat. "And here I find you attempting to try again, you and your band of little reavers! How _dare_ you?"

He relaxed his hold slightly, and Nott rasped, "Please, please . . .sir! Don't eat me! I'm sorry! I didn't know they were related to you . . .!" Huge beads of sweat were dripping down his face, mingling with the tears of terror trickling from his eyes.

_Neither did I,_ Harry thought in amazement. _Dad never said anything about a vampire ancestor before._

"And if you had? Would it have stopped you from acting as you did, stupid boy? Of course not!" Phil answered his own question. "You would have considered yourself justified in attacking the traitor and his family, including the bloodsucker! I heard every word you spoke to my . . .nephews," the vampire lord said. Technically, the boys were a bit more removed from him than nephews, but the relationship was too complex to get into with this piece of dung. "Every last insulting, bigoted, wicked _word_! You meant to teach them a lesson, for betraying your so-called Dark Lord, didn't you?" Nott remained mute.

Philip shook him. "Answer me!"

"Yes . . .yes . . .but they betrayed the Dark Lord . . .they deserve to be punished . . . Snape should die for what he's done!" wailed Nott, defiant despite the vampire at his throat.

"Why? Because he dares to stand up for the truth? Because he does not stoop to torturing innocents and murdering children in the name of some petty necromancer?" The red eyes practically burned a hole in Nott's forehead. "Listen to me, boy, and listen well. I will not tolerate any attacks upon any members of my family—now or ever! By anyone! Because you are a mere child, I shall not bite and mark you, the way I would an adult who committed such an offense, nor kill you either. However . . .you will not go unscathed . . .**Look At Me**," Philip ordered in a voice that was midnight sheathed in steel and fire.

Nott jerked like a puppet, helpless to do anything save obey the Command in the vampire's tone. "Yes, my lord."

"Better. You will promise to never harm Harry Snape, Draco Malfoy, or Severus Snape for the length of your schooldays. You will leave them alone and apologize formally to Severus in front of all of your Housemates as well as the Headmaster and submit to any further punishment they wish to bestow upon you, up to and including expulsion for attempted murder of a professor and students. You will also suffer a day and a night of the pain you made my descendants suffer when your explosion damaged their lungs. No spell or potion will relieve you of it until you have fulfilled the time limit. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord. But . . .I wasn't the only one." Nott whined.

"I know. I will settle with them in a minute." Phil spun about and his fiery gaze froze the other two boys on the spot. Such was the sheer power of an angry vampire lord. "None of those who attempt to harm my family shall go unpunished." He lowered the boy to the ground. "Go then, Theodore Nott, and make your repentance! And remember, I shall be watching!" he leaned down and his fangs grazed the boy's neck briefly. "Behave, or else!"

Then he released the boy and Nott fled, sobbing in terror, only to be brought up short and made to turn around and head back down to the Hospital Wing to admit his guilt to his Potions Master, as per the vampire lord's Command.

Philip then bent and Commanded the other two boys as he had Nott, after first terrifying the snot out of them, and once he was done with that duty, he straightened up and sketched a polite bow to the gaping Draco and Harry. "Greetings, young ones. Let me introduce myself. My name is Philip Anthony Snape, and I am a very distant ancestor of yours."

"And you're a vampire!" Draco blurted.

"Yes, I am. A vampire lord, to be exact." Philip said, then he smiled slightly, a much more friendly smile than he was wont to give. His eyes had changed back from crimson to their normal violet hue. "I was not planning on revealing myself to you so soon, but circumstances forced my hand."

"Uh . . .pardon my asking, sir, but . . .how did you get in here and why?" asked Harry.

"Since I am not evil, your wards permitted me to pass," Philip explained. "And as for why, I would think that would be obvious, little Snape. I am here to protect you. _All_ of you."

Draco coughed suddenly. "Uh, can we go somewhere else to talk about this? It's freezing all of a sudden."

"Yes. Come, we shall go into this empty classroom," Philip said, indicating the unused classroom number eleven, which was across from the Great Hall. "We have much to talk about."

"You can say that again!" Draco muttered, following his vampire ancestor into the room and then shutting the door behind him.

**So what did you think of Phil's punishment? And Harry's interest in Katie?**

**Review please!**

**Next: Phil reveals some family history to the boys, including the story of the Cup of Wonders and meets Severus.**


	6. Vampire Bedtime Stories

**Vampire Bedtime Stories**

Philip settled down in the teacher's chair behind the desk in the unused classroom and looked expectedly at the two teenagers, waiting for the barrage of questions to start. To his surprise, both brothers looked at each other, and something unspoken passed between them. Then they turned and looked directly at him—most youngsters found it difficult to meet a vampire's eyes directly—and Draco said, "Uh . . .my lord—"

"Phillip. Or Phil, though only family members or close friends are ever allowed to address me like that. I was my lord Philip for too long back in the eleventh century to want to start that business all over again now." The vampire corrected softly.

"Right, Philip." Draco nodded. "Umm . . .Harry and I were wondering if it wouldn't be better if you continued this discussion when my dad was here too. That way you could meet the whole family. We could go down to the Hospital Wing and meet with him, if you'd like?"

Philip thought for a moment, recalling how he had rescued Severus from the toxic potions lab, and said, "Yes, I would like that. Your father seems like an interesting fellow and I would like to speak with him when he isn't half-dead from inhaling noxious substances." He rose to his feet. "Come along, boys and let's go and meet my potions prodigy descendent." He opened the door and then turned and hissed, "Since I don't wish to advertise my presence, I will veil myself and walk ahead of you by ten paces." He drew in a breath and raised the veils over himself yet again, then began walking.

"Phil, how do you know the way to the Hospital Wing?" Harry whispered, realizing that the vampire hadn't bothered to ask directions, and in castle the size of Hogwarts, newcomers always got lost.

"I have been exploring and following you about for a week, Harry," came Phil's voice, it was deep and musical. "Wherever you have been, so was I, most times."

"Oh." Harry said, thinking, _Merlin, he must really be into this bodyguard thing. Hope he didn't follow me into the loo._ He flushed, but then figured the vampire was too savvy to do anything so improper and embarrassing. _Though with his supernatural speed he could have nipped inside and scoped things out before I even got there._ That made more sense, plus it was something Harry could live with. Just allowing a stray thought to occur about the other scenario made his face heat.

The two boys maintained a safe distance behind the master vampire, who walked much slower than normal, if they had only known, and spoke very little to each other on their way to the Hospital Wing. Draco was still shocked about discovering that Harry had not been imagining things when he said he had seen a vampire, but he didn't like to admit he'd been wrong, so he kept silent.

But just then Harry turned to him, wearing a rather smug look, and said, "Still don't believe me, Dragon?"

Draco shrugged. "Well, I guess now I have to—" he began, then yelped when Harry smacked him across the back of the head hard. "Hey!"

"Maybe next time you'll believe me, huh?" Harry mock-scolded, waving a teasing finger in front of Draco's aristocratic nose.

Draco rubbed the back of his head and sulked petulantly until Harry laughed and said, "Oh, don't sulk, big brother. That's so four-year-old behavior. And aren't you fourteen?"

"What are you, my father?" groused his brother, then he shook his head and sighed. "Fine. You were right. There really is a vampire in the castle. Happy now?"

"Dancing a jig," Harry replied. "It's the miracle of the decade, Draco Malfoy admitting he was wrong to Harry Snape."

"Yeah, yeah," Draco waved a hand in dismissal. Then he changed the subject. "I wonder what Dad said when those three dumbasses confessed to him? I hope he called Dumbledore so the Headmaster could hear it all and then nailed their arses to a wall."

"Me too." Harry agreed, his eyes flashing. An accident was one thing, but a deliberate attempt at harming his father and brother and himself was quite another. "Too bad Dad forbade us to use _kin-sa-dor_ to harm, otherwise I'd have happily kicked a hole through Nott and Cormac."

"Yes. I know what you mean."

They soon had an answer to Draco's question, for when they arrived at the Hospital Wing, they could hear angry voices, one belonged to Severus and the other . . .amazingly enough . . .belonged to the Headmaster. The two exchanged glances of astonishment and disbelief. Dumbledore . . ._yelling_? It was almost unheard of for the easygoing Headmaster to raise his voice . . .and at a student, no less.

Yet they could hear, quite clearly, Dumbledore berating the three miscreants through the oaken door of the Hospital Wing. " . . .am thoroughly ashamed of all of you. That you could think so little of your fellow students' lives, not to mention your professor, to attempt grievous harm upon them is utterly appalling and disgraceful. If this is an example of school solidarity, perhaps I ought to cancel the TriWizard Tournament and tell the Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to stay far from here, since I cannot trust my own students to behave with common decency and restraint." There was a pause, and then Dumbledore continued, quite irately, "Do you know that attempted murder carries penalties even for a minor? That Professor Snape could bring all of you up on charges if he wished, or Harry and Draco could? Yes, Mr. Nott, I am serious. You may not be incarcerated in Azkaban, but there is another prison for young wizard delinquents who think themselves beyond the law. It is known as the Oubliette, the Place of Forgetting, and those who go in there come out forever changed."

"That's a lie, sir!" MacLaggen challenged. "I never heard of any such place."

"And therefore that means it does not exist, Mr. MacLaggen?" interrupted a familiar soft voice laced with sarcasm. "Based upon _that_ theory half the world must be gone, because what you don't know could fill a whole volume of encyclopedias!"

"I . . .I've heard of it," quivered Avery. "My grandpop used to threaten to send me there when I was bad. He . . .he said they put you down in a dark hole in the ground and left you there to rot. He said that was where all the wicked little children went. Please, Professor, don't send me there! I'm sorry, I really am!"

"But, sir, the . . .vampire already punished us!" wailed Nott.

"So you have said," replied the Headmaster. "But I am responsible for you while you are here and I cannot allow such behavior—deliberate malicious behavior—to go unpunished. I am sure Professor Snape will agree with me."

"I most certainly do," Severus replied, in a tone that was stiff with icy fury and disapproval. "You were warned at the beginning of the year what would happen if you disobeyed me and attacked a student. Now you shall reap the whirlwind."

The two Slytherins began to plead softly for clemency, but Severus remained inflexible. And this once, so did Dumbledore, even when Cormac joined in.

"As of tonight, you three are all on probation for behavioral problems. Which means you are but a breath away from expulsion. Step out of line just once, boys, and I shall begin proceedings to expel you from this school without delay. Said probation will include the cancellation of all Hogsmeade visits, restriction to your common rooms except for class and mealtimes, regular reports to your Head of House from all of your professors in regards to your behavior in their classroom, three nights a week of detention given by Professors Snape, McGonagall, and myself, you are forbidden to attend any matches or play upon your Quidditch teams, and last but not least, I shall be writing a letter to your parents informing them of your atrocious behavior as well as the behavioral probation. Oh, and your wands will be given to your Heads of House directly after class, since you cannot be trusted to use them appropriately. This is your first and last warning, gentlemen. So take heed, else an angry vampire will not be all you need to worry about!" thundered the Headmaster.

Draco and Harry flinched and thanked their lucky stars they were not the ones on the receiving end of that tongue-lashing.

"Am I understood?" Dumbledore added sternly.

Three voices all replied, "Yes, sir," nearly in unison.

"Sir?" Nott asked, somewhat timidly. "How long will we be on this . . .probation?"

"For the rest of this term, at least. If you show honest improvement, I shall reduce your sentence next term. Otherwise the probation stands for the entire year. Do not whine, Mr. MacLaggen! You are lucky we are lenient with you, otherwise you could be going to the Oubliette."

_That _shut even Cormac up, and Harry and Draco stepped off to the side as the Hospital Wing's door opened and three very chastened and hopefully repentant students filed out. All of them were shivering and pale and sweating, grimacing in pain as well, for Phil's curse had begun to affect them as well. They didn't even see their former victims, all were too anxious to get away from the Hospital Wing.

They heard Dumbledore telling Severus to get well and then the shush of flames as the Headmaster Flooed back to his office.

"Phil, the coast is clear," whispered Harry unnecessarily, forgetting that the vampire had far superior hearing and other heightened senses as well.

"I am aware of that, Harry," came Phil's voice from out of the air. It was soft and deep and reminded both boys not a little of their father's.

"Draco, how should we do this?" Harry looked at his brother. "Should we just go in and tell him what happened and then introduce Phil after or should we introduce him first?"

Draco looked thoughtful. "I think first would be best. After we let him see that we're all right. He's probably going spare right now, worrying."

"Okay. Sounds good," and with that, Harry pushed open the door to the Hospital Wing and entered, followed moments later by Draco and Philip.

"Harry! Draco!" the undisguised relief in their father's eyes and voice was palpable. "Are you two all right? Come here and let me see you."

Both boys obeyed, submitting themselves to Severus's thorough visual scrutiny and also a magical diagnostic the older man insisted upon performing, making his sons roll their eyes.

"Dad, we're _fine_!" Draco said. "Those three bumbleheads couldn't take us down if we were tied up and blindfolded."

"Hush, Dragon. I know you, you would tell me you're fine if you were bleeding internally and missing your arm."

"Sounds like someone else I know," muttered his Slytherin son cheekily.

Severus promptly swatted him one, making Draco jump and give his foster parent a sulky look.

Harry, wise enough to learn from his brother's example, said nothing and simple let Snape examine him.

Once Severus was satisfied the boys were whole and unharmed he hugged them and bade them take a seat next to his bed. "Now then, what is all this nonsense about a vampire attacking Nott and the others? Was this some kind of illusion one of you cast?"

"No, Dad. There really is a vampire here, but he's a good vampire, he saved you from the poison fumes when the cauldrons exploded that day. I saw him for a minute before he vanished," explained Harry.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain? Because vampires can't pass the wards about Hogwarts unless invited or—"

"—or if their aura is pure and unstained with the blood of innocents," finished Phil, drawing off his veils and appearing to one side of the two boys next to Severus's bed. "Which I am, since I hunt only for food and take blood only from the evil doers—the murderers, rapists, child molesters, and Death Eaters, both wizard and Muggle alike."

Severus's jaw dropped as he stared at the tall dark-haired apparition, who bowed gracefully and smiled, showing only a hint of his fangs, but enough that Snape was convinced he was the real thing and not a figment of Harry's imagination.

"Great Merlin! Have you been here all along?"

"Yes. I can veil myself from the sight of any mortal or wizard and most fae should I so choose," Phil chuckled. "I am very pleased to meet you at last, Severus." He held out a hand. "My name is Philip Anthony Snape and I am a very distant ancestor of yours."

"Of mine? But how?" Severus had taken the vampire's hand and shaken it, but the sudden revelation left him feeling as if he had been slammed in the jaw with three Bludgers and taken a header off his broom. "My father Tobias was a Muggle, as unmagical as they come."

Phil laughed, his violet eyes twinkling. "True, but one does not have to have magic to be a vampire, though it does help." He turned and picked up a chair and brought it back over to the bed, moving so quickly it was as if he had conjured it. "Do you mind if I sit for a spell? My story is long and involved and will probably keep all of you up past your bedtime."

"A vampire bedtime story? Wicked!" Harry exclaimed, looking as eager as a kid at Christmas, which was rare because as a child living with the Dursleys he'd never had a real Christmas.

"Bloody awesome!" Draco cried.

"Draco, language!" reprimanded Severus automatically.

"Sorry, I forgot," Draco said quickly. "Don't wash my mouth out, please?"

Severus frowned sternly at his blond son before acceding. "I'll let it go, because you'v e been under a lot of pressure tonight, but only this once, mind! You're old enough to control your mouth, Draco Michael."

"Yes, sir." Draco heaved a huge sigh of relief. It would have been the ultimate in embarrassing if he had gotten his mouth washed out in front of Philip.

Phil smirked silently to himself, having caught every thought Draco had been thinking due to his vampiric mind powers. As an ancient vampire lord, Philip had learned to develop his mind to its fullest potential, making him a kind of telepath, but such a skill only came with great age. He cleared his throat and said, "Ahem! Shall I begin?"

"I'm a little old for bedtime stories," Severus began, feeling a little put out at being placed at the same level as his children by the ancient immortal.

"Not by _my_ reckoning you're not," teased the vampire, his smirk an echo of Snape's own. "Thirty-four is practically a child to me, since I am around a thousand years old."

Severus flushed. "According to wizard reckoning, I'm an adult—"

The vampire laughed. "Ah, Severus! I was teasing. If it makes you feel better, your Headmaster would be barely a teenager by vampire reckoning."

The boys giggled at that comment and Severus looked mollified.

"If you like, think of it as a family history lesson," Phil said.

"Yeah, an _ancient_ history lesson," Harry remarked.

"Indeed." Phil chuckled, then he began his tale. "As I have said, I was born a thousand years ago, somewhere around the year 995, that's an approximate date because back then we didn't really bother keeping track too much of calendar years, since most people couldn't read or write. Such was the province of the scholars and monks and royalty, most of the nobles couldn't do more than sign their names. I was born in the northern part of England, what today is Yorkshire but back then the place where I was raised was nearly all wilderness save for a few hardy fiefs. We lived on the outskirts of Yorkshire, up near the Scottish border, though further inland was a thriving cultural center and towns, including the great city of York, one of the greatest in British civilization.

"I was the second son, destined for a life as a knight, helping to protect my home and family. I had an older brother, Theodorus, and a little sister, Eleanor. Both of them were ordinary. I, however, was Born a vampire."

"_Born_ a vampire?" Severus repeated. "But I thought vampires were turned, not born."

"Most are. A Born vampire is very rare, and occurs perhaps once or twice in a century. But we are stronger than our turned counterparts and are truly immortal, unlike our made brethren. We age infinitesimally, at least once our vampiric nature has emerged, which usually happens when we are in our teens, sixteen or seventeen or eighteen. Before that we grow much as anyone else and don't display any differences save perhaps for heightened senses and a quicker healing factor as children."

"Do you mean you can't be killed?" Draco asked.

"Now, I didn't say that. But we have very few weaknesses." Phil admitted softly. He waved a hand and a strange mist seemed to flow over them, making them shiver for an instant. "There. An Aural Masking veil, so nothing I am about to reveal can be overheard by prying wizards." The vampire looked rather pleased with himself. "To answer your question, Draco, a Born vampire cannot be slain by a stake through the heart, garlic, holy water, or fire. Stakes and fire can harm us, garlic and holy water have no effect on us whatsoever, nor does the Killing Curse. Our only true enemies are the sunlight, vampire hunters, or the occasional werewolf. Though some of us can walk about in the sun if protected by a Sunstone."

Phil withdrew his own sparkling jewel from beneath his shirt and showed his descendants the magical pendant.

"Then you don't need to sleep in a coffin with dirt from your homeland?" Harry asked, recalling Bram Stoker's _Dracula_.

Phil wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Certainly not! I could kill Stoker for spreading those stupid rumors about vampires. Much of what he wrote, Harry, was either made up or horribly inaccurate. I prefer to sleep in a comfortable bed, with the curtains drawn, next to my beloved wife."

"You're married?" Severus arched an eyebrow.

"Happily so, for many years, but we're jumping ahead of things." Phil said, resuming his story. "My family did not know I was a vampire, of course. Back then, I would have been hunted down and staked for being a devil worshipper. I did not know myself until the eve of my seventeenth birthday, when my blood hunger and wings emerged. And also my fangs."

He opened his mouth to display the extra long canines.

"Wings? You have wings? Where are they?" Draco craned his head to peer at the vampire's back, wondering if maybe he had gone blind to have missed them.

"They are retracted at the moment, but when I need them, I can call them forth. They are a great advantage in a fight. Mine are a pure ebony, like a rook's feathers."

"Did anyone in your family find out what you were?" asked Severus curiously.

Phil nodded. "Yes. My sister discovered it first, and she helped me hide my nature, giving me aging sheep and cattle to drink from, until I began to learn how to hunt on my own. The animal blood kept me alive, but I was forever hungry, yet I was terrified that if I bit a human, I would turn them into a monster like I was." The ancient vampire grimaced. "I was very much torn between two worlds then. Finally, the king called us to battle and I led the soldiers of my house to war against the French. It was then that I earned the reputation of Philip the Undying, for I took a spear through the chest and lived. I used my illusion powers to disguise the wound, so I didn't appear to heal too swiftly, and declared it a miraculous healing. Luckily, I was popular and well liked and my fellows believed me. It was then as well that I killed my first man and drank his blood. After that, I realized that my drinking blood was a must, and also that I did not make a vampire by doing so. I then made a conscious choice to only hunt those men who were evil and loathsome, never innocents. And I have kept that promise ever since."

"That is a very good thing," Severus remarked dryly.

"Yes. Well, eventually I had to pretend to die, since I wasn't getting any older. I left my family holdings and wandered everywhere, including the realm of the fae. I learned much from them about how to disguise myself and swordfighting and became an ally of the Seelie Court."

"Do you know Queen Titania then?" was Harry's next question.

"Yes, she and I are old friends. She is partially the reason why I am here, little Snape." Phil told him. "I could never stay very long in one place, because people might begin to notice how I never aged or spent much time abroad during the daylight. I also hated watching my mortal friends and family die, though that could not be avoided." Phil's violet eyes suddenly lost their sparkle and went dull and filled with an old pain. "My brother eventually died, though he left behind him three sons and a daughter, and my sister Nell married another lord and had several children as well before she died of the cursed black plague. So the Snape line continued, and I made it my business to check in on my descendants every so often, making sure they were safe and well.

"Once every generation or two, I chose a descendant to show myself to and to tell my story, so that I would not be forgotten. But they could never tell anyone else about me. I chose your father Tobias's brother, Andrew, to reveal myself to. But my secret died when he did, and your father never knew about me or magic or anything else to do with wizards."

"Until he met my mother," Severus said, a faint note of bitterness creeping into his voice.

"I am sorry, Severus." The master vampire said sincerely. "Sorry I wasn't there to help you like I helped your sons. But I was . . .occupied with protecting my own little family from vampire hunters, who had been set on me by your dark necromancer Voldemort." Philip's eyes grew hard as amethysts. "I eventually found a beautiful vampire who was willing to be my mate. Her name is Julie, and she is very special. She is my other half, my soulmate. She and her younger sister Alice also live with me and at the time I had to keep a low profile and protect them as well as myself. But had I known what your childhood was like . . .rest assured I would have made your bastard father suffer for his treatment of you."

"_How_ do you know about that?" demanded Severus. "_No one_ knows about that, except Lily, and my two sons."

Philip nearly blushed. "Forgive me, Sev. I . . .am an ancient vampire and as such can read minds when the person is in the same room as I am. I picked up some of your thoughts regarding your father before and others from your boys when you mentioned him. I did not mean to invade your privacy, Severus, only among family it is sometimes hard for me to block thoughts out, since we are bound by blood."

Severus frowned and raised his Occlumency shields to a level he had not employed since he had last faced Voldemort. "Is that better, Philip?"

Phil looked astonished. "Yes. Now I don't feel so . . .pressured. Thank you. And please, call me Phil. All of my family does." He smiled at Severus.

The Potions Master smiled back. "It would be my pleasure . . .Phil."

"Uh, Phil? How exactly are we related?"

"Draco, that question is difficult to answer, since you are many times removed from me. But suffice to say that you are sort of like my many times great nephews, all of you."

"Then, should we call you Uncle Phil?" Harry wanted to know.

"Uncle Phil?" Philip seemed vastly amused. "Well . . .why not? I can get used to that as quickly as I did my twin sons calling me Dad."

"You have children?" Severus stared at him. "But then . . .that means the myths of vampires being unable to procreate are false."

"Yes. A Born vampire may sire or carry a child with another vampire or occasionally a human, though that is very rare and dangerous for a human woman to carry a vampire's child to term. I would never risk my mortal wife's life if I had one. But Julie is a vampire and she could bear my children safely. I have twin boys, they are four years old, and mischief makers incarnate. They are named Siren and Setus, and they frequently drive me and Julie up a wall."

"Like these two," Severus waved a hand at his sons. "I know exactly what you mean, Phil."

"Hey! We're not all that bad, Dad!" Harry protested.

"Yeah, you still have your original hair color," Draco pointed out.

"No thanks to either of you," Severus shot back.

"Look on the bright side, Dad. We haven't given you a heart attack yet," remarked his son impudently.

"With the rate you're going, Harry Albus Snape, I foresee one occurring in the near future," said his father, deadpan.

"Gee thanks, Dad." Harry made a face at him. "Nice way to make me feel guilty."

"Well, son, if that's the only way to keep you out of trouble . . ." Severus cuffed him gently on the ear.

"I can think of a few other ways," Phil put in, laughing.

"Help, Draco. They're ganging up on me," Harry looked at his brother hopefully.

"What do you want me to do? I'm just as guilty as you are of doing stupid things and making Dad flip out. Face it, little brother, they've painted us into a corner and the best defense is . . .to just shut up and not say anything."

"Big help you are." Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Draco snorted. "So hex me. I'm all about self-preservation, I'm a Slytherin. I don't go in for all that charge of the Valkyries nonsense like you Gryffindors."

"It's not nonsense! I saved your arse with my so-called 'charge of the Valkyries' stunt back in the Deepwood!" Harry pointed out indignantly. "If not for me you would have been wearing a magical arm!"

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" Draco began hotly.

"Boys! Enough!" interjected Severus sharply. "Phil doesn't want to hear you quarreling like a pair of four-year-olds. I'm sure he gets enough of that at home."

Both of his sons immediately subsided, looking abashed.

"Unfortunately, yes," Phil shook his head ruefully.

"You see what you have to look forward to?" asked Severus with a wicked grin.

"DAD!" the two chorused.

"What?" the Potions Master asked innocently. Then he reached out and deliberately mussed his sons' hair, a gesture of affection that they permitted him only when they were in private.

Phil was laughing quietly, pleased at the way the three got along, it was refreshing to see how the little family had bonded, knowing that they had only just come to terms with their relationship that summer. When he had regained his composure, he looked at Severus and said, "I can only hope that by the time my sons are this age, I will be able to provide them with the affection and discipline you have and that they will turn out to be as fine as these two young men."

Both Draco and Harry straightened and shot their ancestor huge grins of triumph. "You are the best, Uncle Phil," said Draco.

"Awesome," Harry agreed.

"Thank you," Philip smiled.

"Dare I ask what I am?" muttered Severus a bit jealously, for his sons had never looked at _him_ with that starstruck hero-worship in their eyes. _Must be the vampire aura._

Harry turned to his father. "You're the greatest, Dad. Thought you knew that already."

"Yeah, Dad, you're brilliant," Draco chimed in. "Even if you do scold us into next week and ground our arses when we need it." He flashed his father his most winning smile.

"Enough flattery," Severus said gruffly, but he was pleased to discover that he was still loved by his boys, despite the fact that their newfound ancestor was a very charming, handsome, and ultra-cool vampire. "Save it for the next time you want to buy something at Hogsmeade." Then he smirked at them.

"Spoken like a true Snape," Philip laughed. "And all of you are the reason why I am here now. It is my sworn duty to protect you from harm, and I shall endeavor to do so to the best of my ability," he said gravely. "As you saw tonight, no one hurts my family and gets away with it."

"A fact that I am very grateful for," Severus told him. "If not for you, my sons might have been seriously injured. For that, I can never repay you."

"You would never need to. We're family. Family has no debts." Phil stated firmly.

Severus nodded. "Nevertheless, I can certainly use your help. As you can tell, these two are born trouble magnets."

"You shall have it, Sev." Phil promised. "And now, I think it is getting very late and you need your sleep. It's almost past your curfew."

Both boys groaned. "Merlin! Two of them!"

"Good night, boys," Severus said, pointing towards the door.

"Night, Dad," they replied, then gave him a quick hug before they slipped out the door.

Harry called over his shoulder, "By the way, Uncle Phil, you tell the best bedtime stories." Then he ducked out the door, laughing.

"Impudent rascal!" Philip snickered. Then he bid Severus goodnight and rose to shadow his two younger charges back to their dorms.

**A/N: so what did you think of everything?**

If anyone wishes to make a banner for this story please let me know, I'd really appreciate it. My only request is it should have Sev, harry and Draco in it in some form.

Next: Harry plays Quidditch and gets closer to Katie, while Draco meets Hermione in the library and makes Pansy jealous.


	7. Yule Prospects

**Yule Prospects**

"So, have you thought about who you're going to take to the Yule Ball?" Ron asked as Harry pulled on his Quidditch uniform.

"Uh . . .no, I'm still trying to decide," Harry hedged as he tugged his robes straight. Actually, he really wanted to ask Katie, but he was afraid one of the older students had already asked her and he wasn't sure how to go about it without looking like an utter idiot. "How about you?"

Ron shook his head. "It's really hard trying to get a girl by herself so you can talk to her, know what I mean?"

"Yeah, they kind of tend to travel in packs, or with at least one other friend, and they always seem like they're laughing at you."

"I know. Why do they giggle so much?"

"Got me. You're the one with the sister. Why don't you ask Ginny?"

"Tried to. She just looked at me like I was the biggest imbecile on the earth." Ron sighed. "Guess we're on our own with this one. Do you at least have some prospects?"

"Maybe," Harry hedged, not wanting to start any rumors or jinx himself.

Ron looked interested, like a ginger tom Arabella Figg had once had, perking up his ears when he heard the can opener. "Such as?"

Harry simply smiled slightly and didn't answer, dodging his too-curious friend by saying, "Gotta run, else I'll be late for practice. See you later, Ron!" He waved then dashed out the door, his Firebolt tucked under his arm.

He thought about jumping on his broom and flying it out the Owlery window to save time, but then he imagined what his father would have to say about that little reckless stunt . . .or do. Not to mention what Uncle Phil would say.

So Harry wisely reconsidered his initial impulse and continued on down the stairs and out of the castle the usual way. After all, Severus had just been released from the infirmary yesterday and Harry had no wish to put his father back in there any time soon. Nor to have an angry vampire scolding him. He had a feeling that would be as bad, if not worse, as Severus scolding him.

He had nearly reached the Quidditch pitch when he spotted Draco, lounging beside the huge bolder in the middle of the path, chatting with Smidgen. As he drew closer, he could just make out their conversation.

" . . .so do you think she'd like a poem, Smidgen? I've heard that some girls like that sort of thing, and she's . . .really into books. Only problem is . . .I don't know how to write that sort of thing. Where can I learn?"

_:Ah, Draco, you have one of the foremost poets of the Seelie Court right here—me! I have studied all the famous poets—Shakespeare, Coleridge, Shelley—now there was a romantic—Byron—oh he was a wicked one, a little racy, but he knew how to court a woman!—and John Keats also, though he died too young, poor man. They served as inspirations for me. I think I can help you with your poem for a special young lady.: _the shimmerling offered, purring ecstatically. She so loved a good romance, and young love was so sweet and unspoiled.

"Thanks, Smidgen!" Draco sighed in relief. "Uh . . .when can you help me write it? I . . .want to meet in the library tonight. Will it take long?"

_:No, not unless you plan on writing a poetic novel like Wordsworth. A poem can be any length and does not necessarily have to rhyme. I shall assist you after Quidditch practice, all right?:_ Smidgen sent, then added, _:Here comes your brother. Hello, Harry! Are you contemplating a date for the Yule Ball as well?:_

"Hi, Smidgen!" Harry greeted the shimmerling, hiding his amusement at finding out Draco wanted to learn poetry so he could write to Hermione. "Yes, I'm thinking about it, why?"

_:Just wondering, is all. Well, I shall be off, have fun playing Quidditch and catching that silly winged globe!:_ And with that Smidgen blinked away, leaving the two brothers alone.

"Silly winged globe!" cried Harry. "The Snitch isn't silly, it's wicked." He shook his head. "Ah, she doesn't understand. Can't expect a shimmerling to know about Quidditch." He eyed Draco knowingly. "Although looks like she knows plenty about sonnets and poetry."

To his delight, his brother blushed all the way to the roots of his hair. "You . . .you were _eavesdropping_, weren't you?"

"Uh . . .ahh . . ."

"You prat!" Draco snapped, and promptly slugged his younger brother in the shoulder. "How much did you hear?"

Harry scowled at him. "Oh, calm down, Romeo! It's not like I'm going to blab how you like her all over the school. All I heard was Smidgen offering you advice on how to write a . . .love poem!" In spite of himself, Harry grinned and snickered.

"Shut up! It's not funny! If I screw this up, she might never talk to me. I figured if I . . .handed her a poem after we met in the library it might . . .make her see me differently. Girls like that kind of mushy junk, right?"

"You're asking me? Smidgen probably knows more about what girls like than I do, big brother. I haven't even got a date for the Ball yet."

"Who do you have in mind? Ron's sister?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I like Ginny, but not that way. She's a friend, but I think it'd be too weird trying to have a date with my best friend's sister. It would make thing really uncomfortable between me and Ron if Ginny and I had a fight or he . . .Merlin forbid, caught us kissing . . .You know, big brothers aren't supposed to like their baby sister's boyfriends."

"How do you know that?"

"Hermione and Lavender were talking at lunch and Lavender said her older brother always had something to say about any boy she ever brought home, that none of them were any good for her, and if any of them ever laid a hand on her he'd hex them into the next century. Hermione said he sounded like a typical older brother, and I think she's right. Besides, I like someone else."

"Who?"

Harry shrugged, embarrassed. "Don't make fun of me, okay?"

"Harry, just tell me."

"I . . .like Katie. Katie Bell, she's Chaser for Gryffindor."

"Good one too. But isn't she a year older than us?"

"So? What's a year? Look at Dad and Sarai."

"Uh . . .you're right. Guess it doesn't really matter." Draco conceded. "So . . .you asked her yet?"

"No. But I just need some time."

"Don't take too long or somebody else might beat you to it," Draco warned. Then he asked anxiously, "You don't think anyone's asked Hermione yet, right?"

"Not that I know of. We only just learned about it yesterday, remember? And Hermione . . .she's always off studying and not too many kids want to go out with a know-it-all."

"I would. At least you can have a proper conversation with her and not have to deal with all that "Oohh, Draco!" And giggling over nothing and looking at you like you were a nice juicy peach she wanted to devour. I'd take Hermione over Pansy any day." Draco said fervently.

"Can't say I blame you. Pansy sounds like the ultimate twit."

"She's a bubblehead, all right." Draco sighed. "I just hope I can avoid her till the end of term."

Harry checked his watch and swore. "Ahh . . .bloody hell! I'm late for practice!" He hopped on his broom. "Angelina's gonna chew my arse out! She took over as Captain when Wood left and she's a real stickler for being on time for practice, like Dad. Good luck, Dragon!"

"You too, Phoenix!" Draco waved as his brother took off, then he headed back towards the school, hoping it wouldn't take him all day to come up with a suitable poem for Hermione. Of course, he would not sign his full name just yet, only his initials and see what she made of that.

* * * * * *

As predicted, Angelina did chew out Harry for being late, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips and giving him a glare so scorching Harry wondered how it was he didn't burst into flames on the spot. "You know, Snape, just because you're a professor's son doesn't give you leave to traipse on over to practice whenever you feel like it!"

"I know, Angie. I'm sorry, I . . .just lost track of time."

"Don't let it happen again, Snape, or else Seeker or not, I'll make you run fifteen laps around this pitch and do fifty crunches just like Wood used to! And it's _Captain_ Johnson! Got it?"

"Yes, Captain," Harry said, flushing. _Great! Just what I always wanted, to have Katie see me getting my arse handed to me._ He didn't dare look up to see if she was watching, and kept his eyes on the ground.

"Okay, now that we're all _finally_ here," Angelina said shortly. "Let's practice." She knelt and released all the balls from the trunk. Then she blew a whistle and the Gryffindor Quidditch team soared up into the air.

Matt Armstead, another Gryffindor sixth year, was the new Keeper since Wood had left Hogwarts and he flew about in front of the rings while Katie, Angelina, and Alicia fought for the Quaffle. Fred and George kept a sharp eye out for the black Bludgers and Harry shot into the sky on his Firebolt, focusing on the whirring Snitch.

The glittering golden ball shot across the pitch, Harry in hot pursuit, but even though his Firebolt was wicked fast, it could not match the enchanted globe for sheer speed and he quickly lost it in the clouds. He swooped down through them, his eyes scanning the area rapidly.

As he did so, he saw Katie crouched over her broom, a Nimbus 2001, arms lifted to snatch the Quaffle out of the air when Matt threw it back in after Alicia had scored. Her robes seemed to cling to her for a moment, outlining her back and waist and Harry felt his mouth go dry. _Wow! Not only does she have pretty hair and all, but she's sleek like an elvensteed and she has a great seat on a broom. I'd love to see her ride a horse._ He gulped sharply as she twisted about, leaning over to snag the Quaffle from Angelina.

The maneuver was dangerous, but that was not what made Harry unable to take his eyes off her. _Ah, sweet Merlin! She moves quick as shimmerling on her broom and how on earth did I miss the way her robes hug her waist and her bum . . .?_ She pulled up, the Quaffle tucked under her arm, laughing, and Harry found himself spellbound, unable to look away from her, her laughter and her smile had him mesmerized.

"Throw it in, Katie!" he found himself yelling as if he were a spectator, and it was only when George shouted at him to watch out that he came back to himself.

"Harry! Keep a lookout, mate!" George yelled, flying up and slamming the Bludger away from the distracted Seeker just in the nick of time. "Don't want to spend even more time in the Hospital Wing, now do ya?"

Harry blinked and looked up at George. "Huh? Oh. Thanks, George." He quickly pretended to be searching for the Snitch, hoping George hadn't caught where his eye had been glued to for the past seven minutes. _Get your mind back in the game, Harry! You can gawk at Katie later!_ He scolded himself mentally, and took his broom about the pitch, struggling to keep his wayward thoughts on the Snitch and not the pretty witch holding the Quaffle.

_C'mon, Snape, you're the Seeker, now quit mooning and start Seeking. Before Angelina conks you over the head with a bat and tosses you off the team!_ But even with his mental berating, Harry found it difficult to concentrate, since looking at Katie was much more interesting than finding the Snitch.

Until the Snitch was hovering right in front of his face and he couldn't ignore it.

Or Angelina's outraged, "Merlin's hairy arse, Snape! Are you going to catch it or sit there like a lump on a log?"

Face flaming, Harry dove after the golden ball, at last managing to catch it in a shocking power dive, pulling up six feet before the ground.

"Got it!" he yelled.

"Nice catch, Harry!" Katie grinned.

"About time, Snape!" his Captain muttered, none too pleased with her Seeker. She blew the whistle. "Let's have another match, and this time, Snape, try and keep your eye on the ball."

Harry muttered an affirmative, reddening, for he hadn't ever been the recipient of Angelina's sharp tongue before this. But he couldn't even resent her for picking on him, since he knew he deserved it.

He managed to keep his concentration for the rest of the practice and caught the Snitch five minutes into the second match, and got himself back into Angelina's good graces and also earned a grin from the object of his affection that made him feel as if he'd won a million Galleons.

All the way back to the locker room he kept trying to wipe a silly grin from his face and a part of his mind kept chanting, _She likes you, she must, she smiled at you twice! Twice!_

He recalled the way her hair had whipped about in the breeze as she flew and suddenly he was imagining running his hands through it and then holding her close and wondering what it would feel like to kiss her and suddenly he was grateful for the shower he was about to take, otherwise he would have been utterly embarrassed.

Afterwards, he saw Katie walking back up the path to the school, the bag with her Quidditch robes slung over her shoulder, and he hurried to catch up to her before he lost his nerve. For once, she was by herself, and not with Alicia, Angelina, or some other girl.

"Hey, Katie!"

Katie stopped and turned about. "Hi, Harry! What's up?"

"Uh . . .you played a really good game today," he managed to say without tripping over his own tongue.

She shrugged. "It was okay. I scored four goals out of twelve, not bad. Angie's a real tyrant when you break rules, huh?" she said sympathetically.

Harry blushed. "Sort of, but I did deserve it. And it's no worse than what my dad would've said to me if I'd been late for class. I'd have probably lost points or gotten detention from him."

"What kept you? Usually you're early for practice."

"Uh . . .I was talking with my brother," Harry hedged. "Uh . . err . . .are you hungry? D'you want to grab a bite to eat at the Three Broomsticks?"

Katie looked surprised. "You're . . .asking me to have lunch with you?"

"Yeah . . .I'll pay, my treat," he offered gallantly, hoping she would think the crimson tide in his cheeks was from the wind and a hot shower.

"Aww, you're really sweet, Harry. I'd love to, but . . ." her face fell, and she thought sadly, _He's awful cute when he blushes and I really want to go, but I can't. I hope he doesn't hate me when I tell him no._ "I can't. I have to go and brew a potion with Professor Snape. This is his free time, when he can help me with my internship . . .I'm really sorry."

"Hey, no problem. Your internship is more important." Harry said, struggling to keep the disappointment out of his face. "Maybe some other time?"

"We could have dinner later," she suggested. "I should be done with my potion in about two hours."

"Sure. What are you brewing?"

"Felix Felicis, you know, the Luck Potion? I'm really excited, it's a sixth year potion, but Professor Snape thinks I have the aptitude to brew it. It sounds like it's going to be fun."

"Want some help?" Harry offered.

"I don't know if your dad will let you help me. I'm supposed to brew the draft on my own."

"Oh, well, maybe there's something else he needs brewed," Harry said, knowing Severus usually had ten potions to brew on any given weekend.

"You could ask him and find out." Katie said, continuing her walk up to the castle. "I'm sure he could use the extra help. Although . . .since when did you get to be good at brewing? I mean . . ." she trailed off, going bright scarlet.

"Since I spent the summer with Dad," Harry laughed. "Before, I always goofed off and never really tried, but since Dad tutored me over the summer I actually like potions now. I'll probably never be a Potions Master, but I'm not a total dunderhead either."

"Good for you! So many people don't appreciate the subtle and exacting craft of potions," Katie began, then halted. "Oh my God! Did I just say that out loud? Merlin, now I'm starting to sound like him!"

"Only a lot nicer!" Harry quipped, and then he started to laugh.

He was joined a minute later by Katie.

When they at last regained control over themselves, they headed down to the dungeons together, exchanging amused glances as they did so.

As he walked next to the tall girl, Harry could not help smirking at the way fate had manipulated him. _Only I could end up having a first date in the potions lab. Guess I really am my father's son._

* * * * * *

Severus had been surprised to see both his internship student and his son entering his classroom that afternoon. But not so shocked that he didn't notice the way Harry's eyes lingered upon Katie every so often, or the way Katie peeked at Harry over her cauldron while she stirred. He had been a teacher too long not to know the signs of a budding attraction.

_So that's the way the wind blows, is it? Well, he was bound to develop a crush or an infatuation sooner or later. I'm just happy it's with Miss Bell, she's sensible and looks like she fancies him too. I suppose I had better sit him down this evening after supper and have The Talk with him. Just in case._ He shuffled through some tests on his desk and hoped it would not be too awkward. He was fairly certain Harry was not sexually active, that this was probably his first serious crush on a girl, and he trusted Harry to behave with decorum and restraint, but even so . . .better safe than sorry. He knew better than anyone what teenage hormones were like and how you could get carried away in the heat of the moment.

He rose to check upon their potions, Katie was brewing Felix Felicis and Harry was brewing a batch of Fever Reducer for the Hospital Wing, and while he was beside his son's cauldron, he leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear, "Meet me in my quarters after supper, please. I need to discuss something with you."

Harry looked up, worry filling his eyes. "Is something wrong, Dad? Am I in trouble?"

"No, not unless you've been misbehaving."

"No, sir."

"Good. Then you have nothing to worry about. Finish stirring that and then you can take a break for lunch."

Harry nodded, and continued stirring. "How did you know I was starving?"

Severus snorted. "Teenage boys are always starving. Plus, I can hear your stomach grumbling." He gave his son's shoulder a squeeze before moving on to monitor Katie's progress.

Harry bent over his cauldron, thinking ruefully, _Merlin's bloody staff, but he notices EVERYTHING. It's like he can read minds sometimes. _

A few minutes later, Severus cast a stasis spell over their cauldrons and declared it was time to break for lunch. He then summoned a house elf and soon they were all eating sandwiches and crisps at a small table next to Severus's desk and drinking pumpkin juice and iced tea.

* * * * * *

Meanwhile, Draco struggled to write a poem that expressed his growing feelings for a certain studious Gryffindor, along with a few hints from Smidgen. He crumpled up sheet after sheet of parchment , because they were filled with crossouts and ink blots. "Smidgen, I think it's hopeless. I just don't have any gift for poetry."

_:Nonsense, Draco! You were doing well. I think you have to relax and just stop trying so hard. Let the words just flow from you. Think about how Hermione makes you feel and then just . . .write it down.:_

Draco groaned and put his head in his hands. "Okay. Let me just . . .start again."

He bent and dipped his quill in his inkwell, paused, and began to write. He just hoped that Hermione liked poetry and wouldn't laugh in his face once she figured out who had written it.

An hour later he carefully sprinkled the finished copy with pounce—which was sand that dried ink quickly—and waited five minutes before shaking it off and rolling it up and tying it with a crisp green ribbon.

Then he called Stormrider and had him deliver it, checking his watch. It was nearly time for dinner.

_:Finished?:_ the shimmerling queried.

"Yes, and now I need to eat something. Thanks for all the help, Smidgen."

_:You are most welcome, young one.:_

"I wonder how she liked it?"

_:Would you like me to find out?:_

"Would you? That would be great. That way I'll know what to expect when I see her in the library later on."

_:It would be my pleasure. I think she will suit you very well.:_ The ancient fae cat purred. She did so love matchmaking.

Then she blinked away, reappearing moments later in the Gryffindor common room, where Hermione was studying for Arithmancy.

She found the girl examining the scroll for any kind of return address before opening it. "That's odd. First my owl comes incognito and now this." Hermione muttered, peering at the scroll intently.

Smidgen hovered over the girl's shoulder, silently reading what Draco had written.

_The goddess of wisdom has blessed you with insight,_

_And a brilliant inquisitive mind, so rare_

_To find a girl who values improving her inner self, as well as her outer one._

_You may think your face is plain and ordinary, but _

_My eyes see beauty in the curve of your cheek and the curls in your hair_

_Your eyes remind me of smoky quartz, sparkling with hidden depths_

_I hope that someday they might sparkle for me,_

_For you are an irresistible combination._

_Your Secret Admirer,_

_DMM_

Hermione was smiling, mouthing the words of the poem to herself and sighing in delight.

"Oh, Merlin! This is like a dream, no one has ever written me poetry before. How sweet! I wonder who's initials are DMM? Let me see, who are all the boys in Gryffindor?" Hermione mused, and took up her quill and began to scribble on a spare piece of parchment. "I'll bet whoever sent me this is the same one who sent me my owl. There was that reference to Athena, after all. Now, let's see . . ."

Smidgen purred in satisfaction before blinking away to tell Draco the good news.

* * * * * *

_Later that evening_

_Hogwarts library:_

Hermione looked up as a shadow fell over her as she was studying her Ancient Runes text, her eyes felt gritty and sore from staring at her books for so many hours. During her study breaks, of which there had been two, she had tried to decipher the author of the poem. So far, the initials didn't match up with anyone in her House, and so she had moved on to trying names of boys in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. She doubted the boy had come from Slytherin, given that House's distaste and dislike of Gryffindors and Muggleborns. She had deduced that the boy in question must be someone who was observant and sensitive and not afraid of a girl with brains. But who that boy could be was a mystery.

To her shock, she saw Draco Malfoy standing in front of her. Unlike previous years, he was not sneering or making fun of her, instead he looked almost . . .nervous, though of course that was ridiculous, for what did the pureblood scion of an ancient wizarding family have to look nervous about? She knew, as everyone did, that Draco had publically rejected his dark inheritance and was now Snape's foster son and Harry's brother as well. She had seen for herself that Draco was not the same boy he had been last year when partnered with him for that potions lesson. Even so, it gave her a jolt to see him here in the library.

"Draco? What . . .are you doing here?" she sputtered.

"The same thing you are, Gra—Hermione," he corrected himself. If she could call him by his first name, then he could extend her the same courtesy. "Trying to study."

"What are you studying?" she inquired, not seeing any books in his hands.

_You_, he almost blurted, but caught himself just in time. He swallowed and tried to come up with a reasonable explanation. The little witch was looking up at him, a puzzled expression on her face. The soft light of the lamps along the wall behind her turned her ordinary brown hair into a bronze colored cascade of curls and brought a gentle golden glow to her pale cheeks. She was seated in a corner, next to an overflowing bookshelf, her books spread out on the study carousel in front of her. "I . . .have a test in Astronomy coming up and I was wondering . . .if you wouldn't mind helping me study for it?"

"You want _my_ help?" she asked, astonished. "But what about your friends?"

"Crabbe and Goyle don't take Astronomy," Draco pointed out.

She frowned. "You must be desperate if you're asking for help from a Gryffindor Muggleborn. Once you wouldn't have given me the time of day."

To her eternal shock he actually looked away and his gray eyes were filled with shame. "That was then. I was . . .a spoiled little brat that needed his bum tanned," he admitted quietly. "I'm different now. Now that I don't have to pretend to be my father's shadow."

"Harry said you had changed, but I wasn't quite sure whether or not to believe it until that day in potions. You made sure I got out first before you and then . . .you went back and dragged Harry out of there too."

"That's right. See, I'm not all bad. I have my good points."

Slowly, she nodded. "I guess that spending the summer with Professor Snape was a good influence on you and Harry both."

"Yes. My godfather's always been a good influence on me. I respect him a great deal. More than I ever did my own father. I really don't have an excuse for my behavior before, except to say that I was trying to be what my father wanted, until I realized that what he was isn't something I should aspire to be. I don't want to be a murderer, or a Death Eater, and hurt and kill Muggleborns. I don't hate them."

She pursed her lips. "And yet . . .you called me a . . .Mudblood."

He flinched. "That was wrong. If Uncle Sev ever knew that . . .he'd have kicked my arse good. Look, Hermione. Let's forget what happened before, when I was an utter idiot, and start over. All right?"

She was silent for a long moment. He seemed sincere, and he certainly was not acting his usual snotty arrogant self. Could this be the real Draco Malfoy she was seeing? Suddenly she had a flash of insight. _That morning back in August—the day of the Malfoy trial—the Prophet ran an article about it and I read it. It said that if the Malfoys were sent to Azkaban, their sole heir would be one Draco Michael Malfoy. And that means his initials are DMM._

She gaped at the blond-haired wizard. "You. It was you who sent me the owl over the summer. And the poem today. Your initials are DMM, aren't they?"

"Yes. Draco Michael Malfoy."

"Did you mean it then? What you wrote? Or is this some kind of prank?"

"If I didn't, I would have never spent an entire afternoon writing it," he replied truthfully, meeting her eyes squarely. "And I wouldn't be here either." He felt his palms start to sweat and he thought nervously, _Now that she knows the truth, what's to prevent her from telling me to shove off? I treated her pretty badly the last three years. _He waited for what seemed like an eternity for her to say something, anything.

At last she said, very quietly, "You're the first boy since I came here to ever look at me as more than just a walking encyclopedia. Even Ron and Harry didn't like me much at first. They changed their mind after the troll in the bathroom though, but . . ."

"That's because your brilliance is scary."

"It is?"

"Uh huh. It's scary to think how much smarter you are than the rest of us."

"Ron always makes fun of me for studying too much."

"But he comes to you when he needs help with his homework, doesn't he?" Draco asked knowingly.

"Well, yes. A lot of people in my House do. Actually, some of the first years in Hufflepuff and Slytherin have also asked me to help them a few times," she admitted.

"There, you see. Being smart is an asset, not something to be ashamed of."

"And are you afraid of me, Draco?"

"Terrified," he grinned down at her. "Terrified that you might actually make me work for my marks this term. I'm used to being the top of my class."

_Why, he's cute when he smiles. Very cute._ Tentatively, she smiled back. "Well, I guess you'd better start studying, Mr. Malfoy."

"Right." He snapped his fingers and his bookbag levitated over to him.

Her eyes widened. "You can do wandless magic?"

"Only a Summong charm. Dad—that's Professor Snape I'm talking about—taught me just before we came back to school."

"Would you . . .teach me?" she asked wistfully.

"I'm not sure I should. Then you'd probably beat me in that too."

"Afraid, Draco?" she challenged, her eyes sparkling.

"No. I need someone to challenge me. All right. I'll teach you wandless magic, Hermione. With your brains, you'll pick it up like that." He snapped his fingers.

She ran her hand through her hair and chuckled. "Better watch out then, Malfoy." Then she asked, "Do you really like my hair? I always thought it was a horrendous mess. I used to wish it were straight."

Draco mimed being horrified. "You didn't! I think your hair is great. It's unusual and different and I like how it curls about your shoulders. It reminds me of ivy."

She blushed. "You're sweet, Draco."

He laughed, low and husky. "Thanks . . .I think." He began to take out his quill and parchment and his notebook. His hand brushed against hers, and he clasped it gently in his own. "I like smart girls. They're so much more interesting than the bubbleheaded pretty ones."

"Then you don't think I'm pretty?"

"You're both." He flipped open his Astronomy book. "Did you like my poem then?"

"It was lovely. I never knew you were a poet."

"Neither did I. That's the first poem I ever wrote. And Athena was my owl's daughter and the first present I ever gave a girl."

"She's the most amazing owl! I just love her. She's very smart and she loves to sit on my shoulder and nibble my hair. Even Crookshanks gets along with her. Thank you so much, Draco."

"You're welcome. I figured she would suit you."

Hermione beamed, and the smile transformed her face. "You know, I like you much better this way."

"I like myself better this way. And just so you know, this isn't an act, this is the real me."

"Good." She allowed him to hold her hand for a moment more before gently drawing it away. "Okay, now what material are you being tested on in Astronomy? The conjuction of planets?"

They spent a pleasant hour and a half studying, quizzing each other on Astronomy and Ancient Runes until Draco said if he tried to stuff one more fact in his head, it was going to explode. "And you wouldn't want a brainless idiot for a boyfriend now would you?"

"Oh, I don't know about that." She teased, tossing her hair back. "Some girls say that the perfect man is a gingerbread man."

"Why?"

"Because he's cute and sweet and if he gives you any lip you can bite his head off."

Draco stared at her. "That's . . .that's just evil!"

She laughed. "Be grateful that I like you the way you are, Malfoy."

"I'm very grateful," he murmured, then he followed his instincts and cupped her face between his hands and kissed her, slowly, gently, and thoroughly.

Her lips were soft, sweet, and he thrilled to the touch of her mouth on his own.

Hermione gasped, for Draco had taken her by surprise, but she discovered that she did not mind him kissing her, not at all. He made her all tingly and shivery and she understood at last what the other girls in her dormitory meant when they said a kiss could make you quiver all the way down to your toes. She had never thought she would ever know that feeling, she who was the bookworm, the frizzy-haired Muggleborn whom no boy ever looked twice at unless he needed her help with homework.

Until now.

And it felt absolutely wonderful.

After a moment, Draco pulled away, keeping his hands upon her shoulders, and said huskily, "Now aren't you glad I'm not a gingerbread man?"

Hermione burst out laughing. "Very much so." She looked up at him and felt oddly as if she had stepped into the pages of a fairytale, where the handsome wizard prince chooses the most unlikely maiden of all to be his bride. _I must be crazy. This is Draco, for heaven's sake! Draco Malfoy! The one they all call the Prince of Slytherin. And you're the Gryffindor Know-It-All. _Her conscience rebuked. _But he gave me my owl and wrote me a poem. And now he kissed me. Dare I trust him? Is he really serious, or is this just a game to him?_ There was only one way to find out. "Draco?"

"What?"

"I was wondering . . .do you have a date yet for the Yule Ball?"

"No."

"Then do you want to go with me?"

He stared into her chocolate brown eyes and saw the rampant uncertainty and fear she tried to hide. Abruptly, he made up his mind. He would banish that uncertainty forever. He cleared his throat.

She waited, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, for his polite rejection.

Instead he said yes.

"Really? You'll go with me?" she cried, unable to believe her ears.

"Yes."

"Even though I'm a Gryffindor and you're a Slytherin?"

"Yes. You know, that's not unheard of, for a Gryffindor to go out with a Slytherin. Look at Severus and Lily. They broke with convention. And so can we. If you want to."

"I do," she said, then she stood up on tiptoe and kissed him back. "See you tomorrow, Draco."

Her lips were like the merest brush of a butterfly's wing, but he savored that brief contact all the way back to his common room. She had promised to meet him in the library again tomorrow and after they would go to Madam Puddifoot's in Hogsmeade for lunch. And then . . .they would see what the school made of another pairing of opposite Houses.

He had almost reached Raj's portrait when he heard the distinct nasal tones of Pansy calling for him to wait up. _Ah, hells! Why does she have to come along now and ruin my evening?_

"Draco! Oh, there you are! Where were you?" Pansy cooed, rushing up to him and grabbing his arm.

He fought to keep from jerking away. He hated being touched suddenly, a legacy of Lucius's abuse. "Studying," he replied shortly, wishing he had just kept on going into the portrait hole.

"Oh, poor you! Spending your Saturday night studying instead of relaxing. Snape must be an awful strict guardian, making you do that."

"He wasn't making me do anything, Pansy. It was my choice. I _do_ like getting good marks, you know."

"Yes, you're so smart, Drakee darling," Pansy crooned.

Draco nearly gagged. _Merlin help me! Now she's giving me nicknames. Terrible ones too!_ "Uh, Pansy, don't call me that. My name is _Draco_."

"Whyever not?" she pouted. "Other girls give their boyfriends pet names."

_Boyfriend? Whoa! I never agreed to that!_ He pulled his arm free of her, determined to nip her infatuation in the bud once and for all. "Look, Pansy. I know we used to be . . .matched to each other, but when my father got sent to Azkaban and I became Severus's ward, that ended."

"Not for me it hasn't," she declared breathlessly. "I told you, darling, I don't care what my father says, I am going to marry you or nobody else. We're perfect together."

Draco shook his head, horrified. "No! Listen to me for once. You don't even know the first thing about me."

"Of course I do! I've known you since we were kids!"

"No, you didn't. You knew the pureblood Malfoy heir that Lucius raised, but that was never me. I'm sorry, Pansy, but we're all wrong for each other. You fell in love with someone that doesn't exist." He felt bad about being so blunt, but nothing else seemed to be getting through to her.

She glared at him. "No! You do too love me! You said so . . .that day near the fishpond behind your house."

"Pansy, for the love of Merlin! I was _six_ . . .and my father had just ordered me to go out there and be nice to you or else he'd whip my arse. So I did. I said what he wanted me to. I'm sorry if you thought I had feelings for you."

"You don't mean that. I know you love me!" she cried passionately, and then she threw her arms about him.

"Ugh! Pansy, get off!" he snapped. He managed to wrench himself out of her arms a moment later. "Quit making a spectacle, dammit! I'm not going to be what you want, because what you want is a perfect Death Eater wanna-be. And that isn't me, was never me. Our fathers arranged this . . .betrothal between us, but now that's done and we're free to find our own partners. So . . .why don't you take advantage of that, okay?"

She gasped, her eyes going wide in her pudgy face. "What are you saying? That you found someone else? Who is she? Where is she?"

"None of your business," Draco said sternly. "Good night, Pansy."

With that, he turned on his heel, spoke the password to the portrait hole, and slipped inside, leaving a stunned fuming Pansy staring after him.

"How _dare_ he throw me over for some . . .some other tart! He belonged to _me_ first! Just wait till I find out who she is, I'll make her rue the day she set eyes on him. Nobody takes what's mine. Nobody!" she vowed, then she sailed inside the portrait hole in high dudgeon, plotting revenge on whoever Draco had chosen in her stead.

* * * * * *

On the other side of the castle, high above in Gryffindor Tower, Hermione brushed her hair and hummed to herself. Athena was perched upon her trunk, and every so often the girl would halt and stroke her owl, and whisper, "I think he really likes me, Athena! Just me, and not because I've memorized half the library either." She smiled happily to herself and wondered what tomorrow would bring. "I think . . .I hope . . .that my prince has finally found me," she confided to her owl and to the sleeping Crookshanks. Then she chuckled at her own whimsy and continued brushing her hair. Tomorrow would be a day to remember.

**So how did you all like it?**

**Next: Harry's date with Katie and Severus gives "The Talk" to Harry and Pansy attempts to discover Draco's new love interest. Meanwhile, Phil senses something off about Moody.**


	8. Dinner and a Discussion With Severus

**Dinner and a Discussion With Severus**

_Two hours previous_

_The Three Broomsticks_

_Hogsmeade:_

Harry managed to find a quiet table in the corner for them and was surprised when the server, a house elf, asked if they would like to see The Couples Menu. "Everything upon it is specially made for two people—it includes an appetizer, main dish, and dessert, specially priced."

"Can we look at that one then?" asked Harry.

"Of course, Master Snape," the house elf bowed to him and produced the menu with a snap of his fingers.

Harry stared at the diminutive little creature. "You know who I am?"

"Indeed. All of us in Hogsmeade know you, Master Harry Snape, who was once Harry Potter, before discovering your true heritage. I am Link, Master, and it is my pleasure to serve you this evening." Then he leaned in and whispered in Harry's ear, "The Queen sends her regards, my lord, and congratulations on becoming the new heir." Then he winked at Harry, straightened, and asked what they wished to drink.

Harry had a fizzy lemon tea and Katie ordered a peach flavored water, it had fresh peach juice in it and was very refreshing. "I'll have to try that some time," Harry said after she explained what it was.

"You'll love it. It tastes great," Katie said, then perused the list of appetizers. "This dip sounds delicious—hot cheddar cheese, bacon, and onion dip with toast points."

"It does sound really good. Uh . . .why don't you pick the menu, Katie? I'm not picky, I eat everything." Harry offered generously.

"Are you sure? You don't have a favorite dish?"

He shook his head. "No, not really. There are a few things that my dad makes that I really like, but I doubt if we'll see them on here so . . .go ahead, choose what seems good."

"The professor cooks?"

"Oh yeah, and he's a good one too. He taught Draco and me some really wicked recipes." Harry told her. "Draco didn't know how to cook at all until we taught him this summer. House elves at home, you know."

Katie nodded. "That's typical of most wealthy pureblood families. Not mine though. I'm a half-blood, my mother is a Muggle and my dad is a wizard. But the Bells don't go in much for domestic service." She perused the menu choices, then nodded after a few minutes. "How about the red wine braised beef for two with a side of mashed potatoes and carrots and green beans? And for dessert , the double banana split and you can choose two of the ice cream flavors?"

"Sounds heavenly. I love ice cream," Harry admitted.

When Link returned with their drinks, he gave the elf their order. He also wanted to ask about how Link was related to Queen Titania, but the server vanished with a pop before he could do so. Harry shrugged. _Oh well. He's Low Court fae, and probably they've got some kind of fae grapevine going with the shimmerlings and my ascension to heir to Prince Manor would have been big news back in the Seelie Court, so I shouldn't be too surprised that Link knows about it. Maybe I'll ask Dad later on tonight._

Right now all he wanted to do was concentrate on Katie and having a nice dinner. He still couldn't believe he was actually sitting at a table with the attractive Chaser, making small talk with her. It was the stuff of dreams, not reality, yet reality it was. He sipped his fizzy tea and said, "So, what do you think about the Tournament? And the students coming from those other schools?"

"Durmstrang and Beauxbatons?" Katie clarified. "Well, the Tournament sounds very exciting, not to mention dangerous as all get out. Glad I'm not going to be in it. Once or twice participants have died, you know, trying to complete the tasks. I've heard there are three of them total, and each one is harder than the last. But the winner of the Tournament gets a whopping one thousand Galleons, plus the Triwizard Cup."

Harry whistled. "Wow! Still, if you're going to risk your life to compete, I guess they'd better pay well."

"I'd say so. And that's why you have to be seventeen to compete also." Katie paused and began to sip her water. "I've heard that some of the students from Durmstrang are tutored in the Dark Arts as well as Defense. Their Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, was once a follower of You-Know-Who. And they're an all-boys school as well."

"Really? Sounds like we might want to watch our backs then. How about the other one?"

"Beauxbatons is in France, and I was almost going to go there, I got an invitation from there. But I really didn't want to live in a foreign country and my French is awful, plus they are almost exclusively female, and I would go crazy without guys to talk to. Sometimes I get along better with guys than girls." She chuckled nervously. "Does that sound weird? It's just . . .well, I was never into all of that girly girl kind of thing . . .you know hair potions and make-up. I liked flying and reading and studying potions or exploring in the woods. Mum used to call me a tomboy."

Harry smiled shyly. "I don't think it's weird. I . . .like all of those things too. Back home, at my dad's house, I used to go flying or walking in the woods on our property every morning. It was so peaceful." His eyes were far away and he unconsciously caressed the medallion under his shirt, recalling those lazy early morning walks around the manor, with the sun shining off the tops of the merlinna trees and sparkling off the water in the fishpond.

"Where do you live?"

"In Yorkshire, way up on the moor," Harry said, it was partially true, half the estate did reside there. "Dad inherited the estate from his grandfather Micah Prince, it's been in the Prince family for generations."

"Wow! Sounds like you're rich. And one day it'll be yours, right?"

"Yes, someday. I'm just lucky we own it outright that it's not entailed or anything. It's not huge, but it's . . .comfortable." Harry said, smiling.

"You really love it don't you?" she said shrewdly.

"How . . .how do you know that?"

"I can hear it in your voice and see it in your eyes when you talk about it," she answered simply.

"I do. It's my first real home. Before that I lived with my aunt and uncle in Surrey but that . . .was not all that great. I always felt like the unwanted relative. But not with my dad at Prince Manor. I belong there."

"I feel that way too about my home. I live in Devon, near the sea, and our house was once the home of a gang of smugglers way back when. It's old and creaky but it has character and dozens of secret passages. Me and my sisters used to love exploring it when we were little."

"How many sisters do you have?"

"Two, both older. Maxine is eldest, she works for a shipping company as a Sea Mage. Travels all over the place. My sister Amber is employed with the Ministry, works in the Weather Department."

They continued chatting all throughout the meal, which was excellent. Harry was amazed at how comfortable he felt with her, as if he had known her his whole life. He found himself telling her of all the trouble he and Draco had gotten into over the summer at the manor, and she had laughed goodnaturedly and shared some of her own mishaps and misdeeds with him in turn.

"Once me and Amber took the little fishing boat out early in the morning and we got stuck in a freak squall and nearly drowned . . .by the time we managed to get back we were soaked and scared to death . . .of our father finding out, that is."

"And did he?"

"Oh yes, couldn't fool Dad with anything. And he was so mad . . .The both of us ended up getting our rears tanned and were made to scrub the entire boat without magic and gut fish for a week," Katie admitted ruefully. "But we learned our lesson and never took the boat out without telling him or my mother. We were a bunch of hoydens, as my grandma Bell used to say. Sometimes . . .sometimes I miss the sea something awful. Have you ever sailed, Harry?"

"No. I've never even been to the ocean."

She gaped at him. "Not even on holiday?"

"No. My aunt and uncle used to go and take Dudley, but I wasn't allowed, they didn't feel it was necessary to take me, so they left me home."

"That's terrible!"

"Well, that's the Dursleys for you." Harry shrugged.

"You're well shut of them then," Katie declared, snorting. "Maybe you can come and visit over the summer with Professor Snape and Draco? My parents won't mind, they love it when I bring friends from school over. Angelina came over last year and stayed for a week."

"That's . . .uh real nice of you." Harry said, blushing. "I'll have to ask my dad though, make sure he doesn't have plans. Usually he prefers to stay home."

By then the dessert had arrived, and Harry and Katie took turns eating the enormous banana split with strawberry, chocolate and butter pecan ice cream loaded with hot fudge, whipped cream, cherries, and walnuts.

"Mmm . . .this is so good!" Katie sighed in delight as she ate a spoonful of chocolate ice cream.

Harry nodded, also enjoying the icy cold sweetness. He had missed eating ice cream over the summer, since Prince Manor was too far away for Severus to get ice cream all the time from Diagon Alley.

They continued sharing until Katie declared she couldn't eat anymore and gave the rest to Harry. "Here, Snape, finish it. If I eat one more bite, I won't be able to get into a dress for the Yule Ball, I'll be like a whale."

Harry paused with the ice cream halfway to his mouth. "You're not fat, Katie."

"Ha! I will be if I keep eating like this. It just goes straight to my hips, trust me. That's why I play Quidditch so much. Helps keep my weight down."

He swallowed the spoonful and wondered if he should bring up the Yule Ball and his lack of a date then. Was it too soon? Would she get offended? He gulped, feeling butterflies start up in his stomach. "Uh . . .Katie?"

"What's up? You look kind of . . .sick. Too much ice cream? I've got a Stomach Soother in my purse."

He blinked. "You carry potions around?"

"Yes, just in case. See, I really am a potions freak. Do you need it?"

"No, I'm fine. I was just . . .wondering if you . . ah . . .had a datefortheBall?" he muttered, feeling himself flush an embarrassing shade of rose.

"Huh? Could you say that again, Harry? And maybe take the spoon out of your mouth?"

"Oh. Right." He put the spoon down. _Merlin, but I am such an idiot! Now she'll never go out with me._ "I said . . .I was wondering if you had a date . . .for the Ball?"

"No. Why?" she asked, a bit breathlessly. "I was sort of thinking about asking Fred Weasley, but . . ."

"Oh . . .err . . .well . . .would you like to go . . with me?" Harry sputtered, wishing he could just curl up and hide under the table. Could he sound anymore pathetic? He waited for her to politely tell him no.

To his astonishment, she grinned like a kid in a sweet shop and said, "I was wondering when you were going to ask me that, Harry. I would love to go with you."

"Y-You would? Then you don't mind that I'm . . .younger than you?"

"Mind? Not at all. What's a year? It's just a number." She laughed, and tossed her hair back from her face. "Besides, you're one of the sweetest guys I've ever known as well as one of the cutest."

He nearly fell over in shock. _She thinks I'm cute?_ "Really?"

"Oh yes. I love the way your hair is now, all sleek and dark, like a black seal's. Haven't you seen the way all the Gryffindor girls look at you now, Snape?"

"No. I thought they were staring at me because I was Snape's son or something."

Katie's peal of laughter echoed through the room, causing several other people to chuckle knowingly. "Oh, Harry! Yes, they were looking at you because of that, but not 'cause you looked funny. It's because you look damn hot, if you'll excuse me for saying so." She eyed him appreciatively. "You look the way Professor Snape must have when he was your age . . .except without the crooked nose. No wonder your mum fell in love with him." Then she blushed too. "Sorry . . .I think I'm getting too personal here."

"No . . .I don't mind. I just wasn't . . .I mean I never thought much about why people were looking at me before . . ." he babbled, and suddenly he felt the first stirrings of desire within him. Flushing, he glanced away, only to feel a gentle hand cup his chin and pull him back around to look directly into her cobalt blue eyes.

"Don't look away. Look right here," she said softly, shocking herself with how bold she was being.

Green eyes met blue and merged and suddenly she was leaning forward and kissing him.

Harry gasped, but did not draw away. Her kiss was all sweetness and light, gentle and fiery by turns. He drowned but he did not care in the slightest, for she was all he had ever wanted, though he had never known it until that moment.

And he saw in her eyes that she felt the same way.

He deepened the kiss, working on some untapped instinct, until they were both breathless.

When she drew away at last, she was smiling from ear to ear, a dazed astonishment upon her face. "Merlin, Snape! Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

"Was it terrible?"

"Terrible?" she exclaimed. "Come here, and let me show you just how terrible it was."

Once again their mouths met and the second time was even better than the first.

"Flaming hells, but you get any better and I just might need somebody to resuscitate me," Katie teased once she could talk again.

"It'd be my pleasure," Harry joked, laughing. "Be right back. I'm going to go pay for this."

But when he approached the proprietor, Madam Rosmerta refused to take his money. "This one's on the house, luv!" she waved away his Galleons and Sickles. "Your father did me a favor awhile back and this is my way of returning it. Put it away, Mr. Snape, and go take a walk with your gal in the moonlight."

"But . . .I . . ."

"Go on with ye, lad! You're only young once, best enjoy it while ye can! Now get!" And she closed his hand firmly over the coins, and turned him about and sent him on his way with a pat to his behind, cackling as he blushed. "Your gal's a lucky one, she is!"

Face flaming, Harry retreated back to the table, trying to ignore the soft snickers of the other patrons behind him.

"All set?" Katie asked, rising to her feet.

"Yeah. Come on, let's take a walk."

She tucked her hand in his arm and they walked out of The Three Broomsticks that way, Katie shooting warning glances at some of the bolder girls and women who were eyeing her escort.

They walked leisurely back up to the castle, enjoying the night and the cascade of stars spun out in the sky. When they reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Katie turned and said, "Thank you for dinner, Harry. I had a wonderful time."

"So did I," he said huskily. "Uh . . .I have to go and see my father for a few minutes. He wanted to talk to me."

"Good night, Harry. See you tomorrow on the pitch. Don't be late!" she waved a mocking finger under his nose. Then she kissed the tip of it, her cobalt eyes sparkling playfully. "Sweet dreams, Snape."

"Same to you, Katie," he waved as she went through the portrait hole.

_Merlin, what a night! It was brilliant!_ He thought elatedly. _Wait'll I tell Draco. He'll probably fall over when I tell him I actually kissed her twice. _Still smirking, Harry made his way down to the dungeons and to Snape's private quarters, wondering what was so important that his father couldn't wait till tomorrow to discuss it with him.

Back at the castle, Phil had observed something odd going on with Professor Moody, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The vampire had noted that on several occasions just after dinner, Moody hurried back to his classroom and went inside. He spent several minutes inside, rummaging in an old battered trunk with about fifteen locks. Afterwards he cast an Obscuring spell about the room, and Phil was not able to see what the professor did then.

It was odd behavior, to say the least, and Philip was suspicious. He had sat in on the first class Harry had with the Auror, hidden in the back of the room, and watched how Moody had spoken to them about the three Unforgivable Curses, giving them the history and theory behind them and promising them a demonstration in the future. He was not opposed to showing the students such magic, since the vampire was of the opinion that you needed to know your enemy in order to defeat him, which sometimes meant studying dark magic in order to learn how to counter and block it.

But there had been something about the professor that made his instincts go on red alert. Phil had been around for a thousand years and he knew a fellow predator when he smelled one. Moody reeked of danger, and made the vampire's hair stand on end and his fangs long to find their mark in his neck. He had never felt that way about any of the other staff members and was puzzled as to why this single wizard would make him feel such enmity.

But he had little time to dwell on Moody's behavior at the moment. His body was quivering, signaling that he needed to hunt, and feed well so that he would not need to hunt again for at least a month. As an ancient vampire lord, Phil only needed to hunt once or twice a month, instead of every three days or weekly like a younger vampire.

Since he refused to prey upon innocents or those without evil in their hearts, he had to venture abroad to find suitable prey. He used his vampiric speed to leave the castle and race through the highlands of Scotland to the teeming large city of Edinburgh. There, he reasoned, he would find the kind of people he sought—the dregs of society—murderers, rapists, child molesters.

By listening to their thoughts, he could pick out a target and then feed, quickly, noiselessly, and deeply. After, he would dispose of the body, making sure it was never found. He knew it was unlikely anyone would care about such people, but he had learned centuries ago to clean up after himself, for even today Vampire Hunters were on the lookout for his kind, and they did not differentiate between evil and good vampires-to them all vampires were bloodsucking monsters that needed to be exterminated.

Phil emerged upon a side street, perusing the people walking by casually. No one could see him, as his veils were up, and all he had to do was concentrate and he could listen in upon the thoughts of the passerby. After some ten to fifteen minutes he "heard" an acceptable candidate—a tall thin man who was planning to rob and murder a young wealthy couple walking along the boulevard further down.

The man had a sharp knife and a silenced handgun, neither of which would prove a handicap to Phil. _Guns are so overrated,_ he thought scornfully, before moving in on his target.

One minute the man was cruising down the sidewalk and the next he was grabbed and smothered by a large hand over his mouth. He struggled but whatever held him had arms of steel. Then a voice hissed in his ear, "Say goodbye, Terrance, to this world and prepare to meet your Maker."

That was the last thing the thug ever heard, for in the split second following, Phil had sunk his fangs into the man's throat and began to feed.

In seven minutes the murderer was dead. The master vampire carefully licked the two puncture marks, for a vampire's saliva healed a vampire's bite and concealed a Nightwalker's victim. Young vampires often forgot to do this after feeding, however, which was why some of the prey could be identified. But Philip was too old and canny to make such a mistake. Phil took the body along with several stones and carried it to a loch and sunk it deep within the water, where it would decompose and feed whatever fish dwelled there.

Then he made his way back to Hogwarts, his thirst satisfied, to resume his guard duty.

At the entrance hall he met Smidgen, who seemed ridiculously giddy, until she informed him of his two young "nephews" activities that night. _:It's so sweet, to see young love!:_ the dreamweaver purred, flying neat loops about the master vampire's head.

Phil chuckled, amused by the tiny feline's antics. "Really, catkin, you act as if this is the first time you've ever seen a boy attracted to a girl!"

_:Do you know how rare true love is among the fae, Philip?:_ Smidgen meowed. _:As rare as the first star of summer being seen by the unaided eye. I would assume the same is true among humans, for they seem to spend most of their lives searching for "the Right One" and few ever seem to find it. But what I sensed tonight . . .was truly magical. There was a connection between Draco and Hermione, despite their previous clashes, that I think will last if they nurture it carefully, like a seedling merlinna. And the same is true between Harry and young Katie. It's not something that I can explain adequately, you would have to feel it. Do you understand?:_

"Yes, Smidgen. I too have been in love, and still am. Julie is more than just my partner, she is my soulmate, we are two halves of the same whole. The moment our eyes met, I knew. My heart rejoiced and it has never stopped. If that were not so, our children would have never been born, for only when a vampire loves with all of his or her being and is loved in return, will he be able to procreate."

_:I never knew that. That is fascinating, Philip. Then your children truly are created in an act of love. How marvelous.:_

"It is that, Smidgen. My boys are miracles and I thank my Maker daily for them." Philip said. Then he said, "But while I hope that my nephews find happiness, I am more concerned with their safety than with their love life at the moment. Have you noticed anything . . .odd about the new Defense professor?"

_:Odd? In what way?:_

Phil told her what he had observed and to his relief, the shimmerling did not dismiss his concerns as mere paranoia. She even agreed to follow the man about and see what she could learn of his background. _:Harry told me once that the position of Defense professor was rumored to be cursed, that because Dumbledore denied Tom Riddle's request to teach it, that Voldemort then cursed the position, with the result that no professor since has held the position for more than a year and almost all have met with untimely deaths or other unfortunate accidents.:_

Phil frowned. "A cursed post? It sounds ridiculous, but I have learned that among wizards, it is best to assume nothing and everything. Therefore, I shall remain vigilant."

_:As will I.:_

"Where is Harry?"

_:With his father. I believe Severus called him down to his quarters to caution him about . . .moving too swiftly with his new girlfriend.:_

"Oh, _that_ discussion. Thank heaven my imps are too young for that sort of thing. I can put it off for another ten years at least." The master vampire chuckled wickedly. "Poor Severus! I don't envy him raising two healthy teenage boys right now."

_:Perhaps you ought to listen at the keyhole, Master Dark? Maybe gain some pointers?:_ the shimmerling suggested insolently.

Philip gave her a mock-glare. "Ha, Mistress Saucebox! I don't need any help in that department, thank you very much!"

Then he turned and strode away down the corridor, and the shimmerling noted in amusement that the vampire was heading in the direction of the Potion Master's quarters.

Harry arrived at Severus's quarters at half-past nine, giving him an good hour and fifteen minutes before curfew. Severus was sitting upon his indigo sofa, drinking a cup of mulled cider and reading a book called _Discussing Awkward Topics With Your Teenager_, which he quickly stuffed under a copy of the Prophet when Harry knocked on the door. His door was warded against dark wizards and any who meant him or his family harm.

"Dad? It's me, Harry."

"Come in, son." Severus sat up and composed himself upon the sofa. He prayed he did not seem nervous, though in truth he was quite uncomfortable and wished to simply get this discussion over with as soon as possible. "How was your dinner with Miss Bell?"

Harry's eyes were glowing, with a light that Severus had seen in but one other pair of eyes—his mother's—when she had accepted his proposal that long ago night. Severus knew quite well what that particularly look meant, and suddenly he wished desperately for Lily to be there. Surely _she_ would have handled this better than he could. _Belt up, Severus, this is all part of being a parent,_ he reminded himself. _Besides, you could hardly be any worse than Tobias._ The Potions Master suppressed a shudder at that memory. Tobias had been half drunk at the time and had told his son that it would be a miracle if any girl would even look at him, much less sleep with him, but if he ever managed to get a girl knocked up, best he not come crying to Tobias.

"It was great, Dad," Harry said quietly. "We went to _The Three Broomsticks_ and had the best dinner ever . . .except for yours I mean," he added, not wanting to hurt Severus's feelings.

"Good. And did Miss Bell enjoy her evening also?"

"Yeah, least I think she did. I . . .uh . . .asked her to go to the Ball with me and she said yes." The boy was so happy he was practically walking on air. "I couldn't believe it when she agreed."

"Why not? You are more than worthy to be her partner, Harry Albus Snape," Severus said. "Come, sit here and have some tea." He waited until his son had sat down and poured himself a cup of Earl Grey before clearing his throat. "I am pleased that you are getting along with Miss Bell, she is a confident and intelligent young woman, whom I am pleased to take on as an apprentice when she has finished school here, if she still desires to go for her Potions Mastery. I think you two . . .suit each other very well." He paused, trying to recall what the book had told him about introducing the touchy topic. Was he going too fast?

Harry felt himself blush and then he abruptly set down his tea and stared at his parent in dawning horror. "Dad? You didn't call me down here to . . .ah . . ." he trailed off, his tongue grown suddenly three sizes too large. "Because I already know all about . . .that . . ."

"Do you?" Severus leaned forward.

"Uh . . .yeah, I do . . .they taught us all about how babies are made back in the last year of primary school," Harry managed to say. "So, if that's all . . ." he made as if to get to his feet, only to be halted by Severus's hand on his arm.

"Hold it, son. I'm not finished."

"But Dad . . .!"

"Sit down," his father ordered firmly, and Harry obeyed reluctantly when Snape tugged his arm.

"Now then, I know this is. . .uncomfortable for you to talk about with me. Nevertheless, we need to discuss it, especially since it appears that you and Miss Bell are . . .shall we say . . .an item?"

Harry was now a bright pink and praying he could just pass out. "Dad, this is only the first date! It's not like I'm engaged, for Merlin's sake!"

"But you are obviously considering going out with her again, correct?" Harry nodded. "And you are obviously attracted to her, a blind man could tell that," Severus coughed, then plowed ahead gamely.

"I like her, sure. A lot."

"Good. And have you been . . .intimate with her?"

"I . . .I kissed her twice." His son admitted. "That's it. Dad, please. I'm not even close to . . .doing that."

"I would hope not, but nevertheless you need to know what to do in case you ever do decide to . . .make love with a girl. Now, I would hope you would exercise caution and wait until you are committed before . . .doing so, but should you ever decide otherwise. . .you need to know your options."

"Options? Good God, Dad! Like what?"

"Like making certain having sex is something you both agree on and knowing the consequences beforehand. It shouldn't be something you undertake lightly, son. It should be . . .meaningful. The way it was between your mother and I," Severus added, praying that was enough of a personal example to get his point across.

Harry squirmed as if his backside were being burnt by red-hot irons.

"And if you decide it is, then you need to be aware of how to prevent an unwanted pregnancy. Your first and best option is abstinence. Barring that, there are several contraceptive magics you can employ. The first and most common is a potion called Contraceptix, it can be drunk up to an hour before intercourse with maximum effectiveness. It should be taken on an empty stomach if possible, as food might inhibit the swiftness of its absorption. Contraceptix is fairly easy and inexpensive to brew, and it does not inhibit your . . .err . . .enjoyment any."

Harry was astonished to see a slight blush creep up Severus's face as well.

"It is almost ninety-nine percent effective. However, to be safe, you might also consider using the potion along with a spell. The Impotence Charm creates a thin shield of air . . ." Severus continued, determined to do this properly. He explained what the charm did, it was similar to a Muggle condom, and then suggested herbal teas that a girl could take just before her cycle to inhibit ovulation and a similar potion geared for a woman's reproductive system as well.

Severus then produced two sheets of parchment, one contained the recipes for the potions and tea and the other the instructions for the charm. "Here. I would suggest you look these over, son, and look before you leap, so to speak. It's natural for you to want to have a . . .relationship with your girlfriend, it's nothing to be ashamed of, but for the love of Merlin, _do_ use your head, Harry. Being a father is a huge responsibility and I hardly think you're ready for it when you are sixteen or seventeen. I was twenty when you were born, and I wasn't ready for it at all, even if I had known of your existence."

"Because you were a spy and there was a war going on?"

"No, though that would have complicated things a great deal. Harry, having a child changes everything. Because it means that your life is no longer about you or even you and your girlfriend. When a child comes into your life, your life becomes centered around your baby. And you live to protect and take care of that child until that child is grown. Or at least you do if you have any shred of decency and responsibility and love within you. That job is the most important one you will ever have, and so you had better be prepared to give it your best effort, son, because you don't get to start over or quit."

"I know, Dad. I'm not ready . . .to have a baby yet."

"Thank Merlin!" Severus heaved a sigh of relief. "Because I am definitely not ready to be a grandfather yet."

"Neither am I," his son teased.

"Impudent whelp!" Severus gently cuffed him on the back of the head. "One more thing, Harry. You also need to remember to respect your girlfriend. If she says no, you stop whatever you're doing. Don't assume that she doesn't mean it, or she's leading you on. When a girl says no—it's no. Got me?"

"Yes, sir. I would never . . .force a woman . . .Never!"

"I know, son, but I just wanted to remind you because sometimes a boy can get . . .urges and . . .you need to exercise control, because no son of mine will ever be the sort of man who abuses women, am I understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, because if I ever found out that was the case, I would take you apart, Harry Albus Snape. Don't doubt it for an instant. I lived through the hell of one misogynist in my family, I'll be damned if I'll raise one." Severus said sternly.

"You aren't. I'm not like that, Dad. And neither is Draco."

"Thank God for that." he reached out and tousled his son's hair. "I'm probably jumping at shadows and I know you'll treat Miss Bell decently because that's the kind of person you are, but I just wanted to lay everything out on the table." He drew in a deep breath. "Now that's over with, would you care for some hot cocoa and biscuits? I know you like to eat sweets before bed and this once I'll indulge you, for being a good sport and allowing me to perform my . . .uh fatherly duty with a minimum of embarrassment."

Harry smiled up at him. "Thanks, Dad. You did good." He reassured his father, sensing somehow that Severus needed it. _But I'm sure glad that's over!_ Then he added, "But you'd better give this talk to Draco too and not just me."

"Of course I will. That's only fair," Severus said. Then he waved his wand and a plate of double chocolate chips appeared on the coffee table.

"How did you know . . .?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Harry, I wasn't born yesterday. You and Draco always forget to clean up the crumbs under your beds. And the dirty dishes." Then he picked up a biscuit and ate it, smirking like a mischievous imp. _That went better than I expected. I just hope the same holds true for his brother. _

The two ate and drank their bedtime snack companionably before Harry said good night to Severus and returned to Gryffindor Tower, where he dreamed of walking with Katie beside the Black Lake, beneath a canopy of stars.

**So . . .how was that? Was it realistic enough?**

**Review and let me know how you felt please!**

**Next: Pansy finds out about Hermione and Draco and attempts to do something drastic about it.**


	9. A Witch Scorned

**A Witch Scorned**

_Three days later:_

Draco was supposed to meet her at the library, but he was late, and Hermione decided to go over to the Slytherin portrait hole and wait for him there. He had to return there eventually, and then she could catch him and speak with him about his tardiness. _Tardiness,_ she thought, stifling a giggle. _Merlin's pants, but I sound like some middle-aged Headmistress or professor or something. But I sure don't feel that way._ For the first time ever, she felt like every other teenage girl smitten with a guy, all fluttery and eager and happy. She couldn't stop smiling, and for once she was grateful that her parents had insisted she get braces when she was six, because now she wasn't afraid to grin widely, since her teeth were perfectly straight. Her braces had come off last year and now she only wore a retainer.

She tapped a foot against the stone floor and wondered where on earth Draco could be. It was after dinner and he had promised to meet her again in the library, so they could study for Charms together and Defense, which had never been her strong suit. But she was an ace at Charms and he was the same with Defense, so they complimented each other. Then too, she really enjoyed spending time with him. To her surprise, he was not an arrogant snob, but witty and suave and he could poke fun at himself when he needed to. He was also very bright, with an intelligence that matched hers, and she was delighted to find a boy that wasn't intimidated by her brains. If anything, he was proud of her intelligence. "I've got the smartest witch in the school for my girlfriend and nobody else can even come close."

When she had told that to Ginny and Lavender, both girls had told her Draco was definitely a keeper. Any boy who valued a girl's mind over her body was first rate in their book, because that was a rare attitude among teenage boys. Most of them had eyes only for the girls with the biggest breasts or the prettiest face.

As she waited, she began to review her Charms notes in her head, and she had almost gotten to the end of the afternoon's lesson when Pansy Parkinson strode over to the portrait hole, looking as if she were about to have a hissy fit. She caught sight of Hermione and stopped dead.

"What are you doing here, Granger? Forget the way to your own common room?"

"Hardly, Parkinson. I'm waiting for Draco. Any idea where he is?"

Pansy's eyes narrowed and a spiteful look crept over her pug-like features. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because we . . .had a study date," Hermione told the other girl shyly.

Pansy threw back her head and laughed. "A study date, she says! Granger, you're so lame! Is that all you know how to do with a boy? Study? I'll bet you've never even kissed a guy."

Hermione's eyes flashed. "Then you'd be wrong," she shot back, and smiled sweetly at the other girl.

Pansy scowled. "Liar. The only guy who'd kiss _you_, Granger, would be a total nerd."

"Oh really? Then you think Draco's a nerd?"

Pansy's jaw dropped. "Draco? Draco _Malfoy_? You expect me to believe that he actually _kissed_ you?"

Hermione just smiled.

Pansy turned an unattractive shade of pasty white and then red. "How much did you pay him? Five Galleons?"

"Shut your mouth, Parkinson! I'm not a . . .a slut!"

"If the shoe fits . . ." cackled Pansy nastily.

"Takes one to know one, huh?" Hermione managed to get out, longing to slam the smirking Pansy a good one. She kept her temper by the slimmest of margins.

Pansy doubled up her fist. "You calling me a whore?"

"No, you did that yourself," Hermione told her.

Pansy's wand was in her hand. "You're asking for an arse-kicking, Granger. Too bad I don't have time to give you one." Her stubby finger poked Hermione in the chest. "Listen, Granger, and listen good. Draco was mine before he was ever yours and he'll always be mine. Now go find one of your own kind to date, Gryffie bitch!"

Before Hermione could let her have it, she turned and stalked into the portrait hole.

"Draco _is_ my kind , you ignorant, bubbleheaded, shallow, hag from hell!" she found herself shouting.

"Glad to hear it. Otherwise, I'd be worried," came a familiar voice from behind her.

She whirled about. "Draco! You're late."

"Sorry, Mione," he apologized. "I . . .uh got sidetracked playing some one-on-one Quidditch with Harry. Who were you shouting at?" he asked, standing about two feet from her, wearing his black robes and smiling that sweet smile she loved, his grey eyes dancing.

"Pansy. She came up and tried to start something with me. Did you used to . . ah date or something?"

Draco grimaced. "Or something. It wasn't something I chose, believe me. Our families had an . . .agreement, but once I turned my back on the way of the Death Eaters, her father broke it off. Only Pansy didn't agree with it."

"Oh. I guess that's why she thinks you belong to her then."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Unbearable twit! I belong to myself." He dusted off his robes.

"That's what I told her. Do you . . .do you still want to go and study?" she asked awkwardly, wishing she knew of something else to talk about. _Maybe Pansy's right and I really am lame. I've been friends with two guys for years and I still don't know how to talk to one. _

"Sure, Mione. Uh . . .you don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

"No. I . . .like it," she smiled brightly. "It's sweet."

He smiled back. "Sweet's okay. But I don't do cute."

"Don't you? Because I think you're _very_ cute," she blurted before she could stop and think. _Oh my goodness! Did I just say that out loud? Was that bad? What if he thinks I'm . . .a tramp?_

"Now _that_ I can do, Mione." He reached out and ran his fingers through her thick hair. "Have I told you how much I love your hair? It's thick and springy and perfect for me to play with."

She snickered. "I didn't know you had a hair fetish, Mr. Malfoy."

"Only for your hair," he replied huskily, then he tangled his hands in it and brought her mouth down on his. Then all he could think about was how much he adored the taste of strawberries on her tongue. _Ahh, so sweet, Merlin! But I wish this never ended._

The two were so caught up in their own involvement that they failed to hear the sound of footfalls behind them.

Severus was heading into the common room to speak with his Slytherins about the upcoming Triwizard Tournament, reminding his House to behave with dignity and decorum to the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, when he came upon a sight that stopped him dead in his tracks.

His son and . . .Hermione Granger were kissing in the hallway.

In a very public display of affection.

Now Severus knew quite well that Draco had started seeing Hermione, the boy had told him a few days ago, wanting to make certain his doing so caused no friction in his new family. Severus had reassured him that his choice was fine, but he hadn't thought it had gotten much beyond the hand-holding stage.

Apparently he had been wrong. Dead wrong.

_Dear sweet Merlin! Are they going to come up for air any time soon?_ He wondered inanely, then he cleared his throat pointedly. "Mr. Malfoy. Miss Granger. This is not a subject you two should be studying."

The two sprang apart as if he had cast a Stinging Hex on them.

"P-Professor Snape!" cried Hermione, her face coloring a brilliant scarlet. "We . . .uh . . .were just . . ."

"Dad, it's not . . .err . . .what it looked like . . ." Draco fumbled for some excuse, but his mind was a blank.

"Oh?" One eyebrow rose sharply. "On the contrary, I think it was exactly what it looked like."

"No, you don't understand, sir, we were going to do homework," Hermione stammered.

"And what homework would that be? If I recall, Hogwarts curriculum doesn't have _Learning to Breathe During Kissing 101_, Miss Granger," said Severus dryly.

Draco went beet red. "Dad, please! We really were just gonna study. But then . . ."

Severus eyed his son sternly. "But then you got distracted by Miss Granger's pretty face, right?"

"Uh, yeah." Draco said, embarrassed and annoyed. "Kissing's not a crime, you know."

Severus frowned. "Don't get cheeky with me, mister." He folded his arms across his chest, playing the role of stern patriarch to the hilt. "I had intended to have this discussion with you tomorrow, but it would seem there's no time like the present."

"What discussion?"

"The one I had with your brother a few days ago," answered his father. "Miss Granger, if you will excuse us, I need to speak with my son privately."

"Yes, sir. He's not in trouble, is he, sir?" she cried, feeling incredibly guilty as well as horrendously embarrassed.

"Only if he fails to turn in his homework. I would suggest you return to your common room and begin yours, Miss Granger. This will not be a quick conversation."

"Understood, sir. Draco, I'll . . .see you in class," she said, then waved and fled back up the stairs.

"Bye, Hermione," Draco called, then he turned and glared at his father. "Hell, Dad, did you _have_ to just totally embarrass me in front of my girlfriend?"

"Draco, we'll discuss this in my quarters. I won't have an argument here in the hallway for everyone to witness," Severus said abruptly, then he took his son by the arm and led him down past the portrait hole to his private rooms, his black cloaking billowing like a pair of ebony wings behind him.

"Why not?" Draco muttered sullenly. "You embarrassed me in public, turnabout's only fair."

"Draco!" Severus reprimanded, then unlocked his door with a flick of his wrist and dragged his offspring inside.

After locking the door and ensuring that the privacy wards were in place, Severus pointed to the sofa and indicated Draco should sit down. The blond teen threw himself upon the comfy hunter green sectional with a huff, his cheeks still tinged with red. "Why did you have to confront us like that?" he sulked. "Why couldn't you just play it cool and walk away, like other people's fathers?"

"None of this would be necessary, mister, if _you_ limited your displays of affection somewhere that was not in the middle of the hallway where everyone can see them!" Severus shot back. "Do you think I enjoyed doing that to you, Draco? I assure you, the last thing I expected was to come upon you and Miss Granger kissing passionately in front of the Slytherin common room."

"It was just a kiss. What's the big deal? It's not like I was groping her or something. Lucius wouldn't have—"

"Wouldn't have said anything? Would have given you pointers?" Severus demanded sharply. "Might I remind you that you are _my_ son now, and not his? And what he found acceptable behavior, I do not. I have different standards than he did—"

"I _know_. Impossible ones."

"Sulking is for five year olds, stop it immediately!" Severus told him, his hands on his hips. "I know Lucius was rather casual in regards to you having relationships in school with girls, like many purebloods, he saw nothing wrong with a mere "schoolboy romance". I, however, am a teacher here, and as such I have certain standards of discipline and decorum to maintain, Draco. And so do my sons."

"You said it was fine if Hermione and I went out."

"I have no objections to that, Draco, I told you already you may choose whomever you wish to date, so long as it does not interfere with your schoolwork and grades. But—"

"It wasn't!" Draco interrupted. "We _were _really going to study, but I just wanted to give her a kiss first. What's wrong with that?"

Severus sighed. Then he went to sit down next to his son, figuring he was being too intimidating and getting the teen's back up. "Nothing, if done in private, not in the middle of the corridor. Draco, think about how it looked. You don't want to ruin her reputation do you? Or your own?"

"I'll hex anyone who calls her names!"

"Draco, that's not the point. You need to learn a little self-control, son. Before you take it too far one day."

"Merlin, Dad! We have one kiss-and yeah it was incredible—but still! And you're already acting like we were caught naked in the broom closet. Give me a break, please! Hermione's not a slut, she'd never have pre-marital sex."

"I am delighted to hear that she has scruples, Draco. I would hope you believe the same. But I know all too well how teenagers can get carried away. That's why I brought you here, so we could discuss—"

"Dad, I don't need to hear this," Draco began, squirming. _Bloody hell, no! Not this, please Lord!_ "I already know how to get a girl pregnant."

_Wait, that so did NOT come out right,_ Draco thought frantically, but it was too late.

"An accomplishment to be proud of, no doubt," drawled Severus, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "However, you're going to sit here and listen to me tell you how **not** to make a girl pregnant, Mr. Malfoy."

"I know about protection, Dad. You think I'm stupid?" Draco snapped, his face now turning the color of the Gryffindor banner. He jumped to his feet.

"What you are is in danger of getting grounded, mister. Sit, now!"

"I don't _believe_ this!" his son grumbled rebelliously. He threw himself back down on the couch.

"Mind the attitude," warned his father.

"I _am_!"

"_And_ the tone. Unless you wish to miss the first Quidditch match of the year."

Draco blanched. "You _wouldn't_! I'm the best Seeker Slytherin has!"

"That may be, but Seekers can be replaced," Severus growled, leaning over and glaring into his stubborn offspring's eyes. "Keep up the disrespect and I will yank you off the team so fast your arse will still be attached to your broom. Clear?"

Draco gulped, for the look in Snape's eyes would have petrified a demon from hell in ten seconds. "Okay. Sorry, sir." Draco apologized. _This sucks! First Lucius and now Severus, _he groaned inwardly.

"Apology accepted, Dragon." Severus cleared his throat, gathering his thoughts. He had hoped that this time around "the talk" would be less awkward, but draco wasn't making things easy for him, the rebellious brat.

Draco rolled his eyes. "All right, let's hear your words of wisdom, father of mine," he prompted. "I need to study, remember?"

Severus gritted his teeth and controlled the urge to cuff the boy around the living room. "Draco Michael, you are getting on my last nerve. Now shut your mouth and listen!"

Recognizing that he was teetering on the brink of the abyss of Snape's temper, Draco wisely clamped his mouth shut and let Snape continue.

Severus gave Draco the same lecture he had Harry that other night, telling him about Contraceptix and the tea and charms you could cast and also gave Draco the same handouts he had Harry. Draco took them with a sigh, he had heard all of this before and didn't see why he had to endure the same embarrassing lecture all over again. But neither did he want to make Severus angry and risk getting grounded or banned from Qudditch. He knew better than to test Severus, for the man was famous for doing exactly what he promised—especially to members of his own House. Or his sons.

At last the whole parental advice and practice safe sex lecture was over with and Severus summoned Dobby to make them a tray of tea and cinnamon scones, which he knew Draco particularly enjoyed. "There, now that wasn't so bad, was it? You're still alive."

"Barely," Draco drawled insolently. "I nearly died of boredom."

"Boredom? Are you saying that I'm _boring_, you impudent scoundrel?" demanded Severus, pretending to be insulted.

"As Binns," Draco smirked.

"You _dare_ . . .?" the Potions Master cried. "You need a good lesson in respect, boy!"

"Right," his son snickered. "That'll put me to sleep too."

An instant later he found himself hauled across Severus's lap, and he stiffened, sure that he had gone too far, but all Severus did was give him a few light taps on the bum and then tickle him unmercifully on the backs of his knees.

Draco was helplessly writhing and howling with laughter in two minutes. In the next minute he was begging for Snape to stop. "Dad—_PLEASE!_ Stop! I'll . . .hahahaha . . .behave!" Draco wriggled, laughing so hard tears were streaming down his face.

"Will you? I think not." Severus said, smirking evilly. His fingers found the tender spot under his son's arm and began to tickle.

Draco screeched. "Ahhh! No . . .oh no . . .not _there_ . . .Dad, please! I'll be good!" He dissolved into a fit of unrestrained giggles.

"Have I your word then?"

"Yes, sir. Promise!" he gasped, twitching.

"Very well. Lesson learned." And then Severus released him.

Draco scooted over to the far end of the couch, the occasional giggle still escaping him, and wiped his face with one of Severus's handkerchiefs. "You're really mean, Dad."

Severus shrugged. "Next time mind your manners, Draco Michael, and you won't be punished."

"That's not punishment—it's torture!"

"As it is torture for me to have a disrespectful child," returned Severus, chuckling. "Drink your tea, Dragon," he indicated the tray upon the table.

Draco began fixing himself a cup, then froze. "Bloody hell, Dad! Dobby came back when you were . . .doing that to me . . .?" Horror crept over his features.

"Yes. He found it quite amusing."

"Great! Now the whole school will know." Draco groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Quit being so dramatic, Dragon. Dobby knows how to be discreet."

"Sure he does. Just wait. Tomorrow everyone will be talking about Tickle Me Draco."

"Stop. Dobby knows better than to speak of anything he hears or sees in my quarters. I have been a spy too long to ever ruin my cover by trusting a blabbing house elf. When Harry freed him and he came to work here, I requested that he not speak of anything he observed in my quarters if he happened to be here. He agreed. So there is no need for hysterics."

At that, Draco jerked his face from his hands and cried, "I am _not_ hysterical. Merlin, Dad! You make me sound like a whimpering little girl. You were so concerned about reputation, remember?"

"That was different. Having a reputation for being fast and loose with women is not one I want associated with you, Draco. That's why I'm harping on you now, son. Because once given, a bad reputation is hard to overcome. Take it from one who knows."

Draco nodded, understanding perfectly where his dad was coming from. The reputation Severus had cultivated as a spy of the "Greasy Git" and the "Terror of the Dungeons" was legend, and it would take awhile before the students adjusted to mere Professor Snape, strict but fair Potions Master, who was the parent of two of their classmates, and actually washed his hair, for that had been part of his spy persona that he had abandoned upon returning from Prince Manor.

That had nearly caused a significant portion of the student body to go into cardiac arrest. Or faint dead away. And one or two of the faculty members too.

That had caused much amusement for the Snapes for weeks and even now it could still make them laugh, recalling the gap-jawed, slack-faced looks on the students' faces when Severus had walked into potions minus the oil in his locks. Harry swore you would have thought the class had been put under a Silencing Charm when they first caught sight of Severus with his gently waving shiny squeaky-clean hair flowing down his back.

That had been followed by gasps of shock from the female portion of the class, who now saw their professor for the sexy man he was when not in school, and caused the male portion to gape and wish _their_ hair was so silky and ebony-colored, with blue-black highlights. And girls stared at _them_ like they wanted to eat them with a spoon. But by far the funniest moment, according to his two sons, was when Severus had grown tired of all the whispers whenever his back was turned, and had spun about and marched up inbetween the cauldrons and yelled, "Go on! Get a good look! Had enough now? It's a bloody miracle, right? The Greasy Git is no more. Get used to it."

There had been dead silence for about twenty seconds, and many blushes and stammers.

Then Snape had turned and strode back to his desk, and first Harry and then Draco stood up and applauded him, followed by several Slytherins and Ron and Hermione.

Snape had whirled back around. "You have something to say?"

"Yes, sir," Harry spoke up, when it appeared his father's angry-Horntail act had frozen the others into silence. "We do. We all want to say thank you, Professor Snape."

"For what, Mr. Snape?"

"For saving our arses, all of us, even when we didn't deserve it." Harry had replied sincerely.

Severus blinked, and for once, had no snappy comeback. "Finish your assignments," he ordered gruffly, before turning about to hide his pleased smile.

Remembering that moment made Draco chuckle aloud now, and when Severus asked what was so funny, he tugged on his blond locks and answered, "Hair. You know."

And the next sound heard in Snape's quarters was two men laughing uproariously. Or it would have been if the wards had not been up.

"Uh . . .I really do have homework I should be doing," Draco said after he could talk once more.

"Yes, and I have an announcement to make to the House," Severus nodded. "Come, Dragon."

This time Draco followed without protest.

* * * * * *

Meanwhile, Pansy stormed into her room, in a black mood, and promptly hexed the quivering Amando Gibbons, a firstie, into a polka-dot skinned mess. The younger girl fled wailing to Prefect Amber Sorensen, who removed the hex in a minute and told the girl to avoid Pansy like the plague, the temperamental bitch. She went and confronted the furious Pansy and informed her in no uncertain terms that her attitude wasn't going to be tolerated anymore. "Snape's new rules, Parkinson. Meaning you ain't allowed to use your temper as an excuse to hex firsties and you can't hide behind the fact that you're daddy's little girl either, 'cause who your dad is doesn't count for crap anymore. Do it again and I'll have you scrubbing all the toilets in the castle for weeks."

"Fine! Tell the brat I'm sorry!" Pansy had snapped. "Now get out!"

"Prefect Sorensen."

"What?"

"That's get out, Prefect Sorensen. Show me some respect, girl." Amber growled, as a seventh year she could beat Pansy in a duel without even blinking.

Pansy sullenly repeated what Amber had said and the prefect had left.

The furious girl thought about smashing all of her vials of perfume, cold cream, and Hair Elixir, because it was unbelievable that _her_ Draco had dared to go out with that . . .that nerdy bitch from Muggleville, Granger! How dare he throw her over for that bushy-haired, whey-faced, walking encyclopedia. She probably needed a manual to show her how to kiss a guy correctly, Pansy thought spitefully. _Drakie, how could you? How COULD you?_

"Arghh!" she shrieked, and then broke two of her least favorite perfumes. "I _hate_ you!"

She wasn't sure right then who she hated more—Draco for betraying her with the Gryffindor ho, or Hermione for stealing away what had always been hers. _He was supposed to **marry** me, we were promised in everything but name, and I won't let **her** have him. No way in hell! If he doesn't want me, then he won't have anyone!_

Filled with a poisonous jealousy mingled with a terrible need for vengeance, Pansy opened her trunk and rummaged through it. "Where is it?" she muttered. "I know it's here somewhere. Betsy gave it to me before she married Antoine." She threw several expensive pairs of shoes and boxes of jewelry and other items upon the floor before finding what she sought. "Ah ha! Here you are!"

She cradled a small black book to her chest, simpering. On the cover, in bold red script were the words _How To Bind A Man To You in Ten Days or Less_. Her elder sister Betsy had passed the book down to Pansy, saying it was something no girl who wanted to keep a man should be without. She had received it from her Aunt Mortentia when she was Pansy's age, and it had served her well. "Just don't ever show it to anyone, or get caught using it, little sister," Betsy had cautioned. "The old prudes at school think these spells are borderline dark magic. Ha! Not quite. But they'll solve your problem of getting a boyfriend now that Father's forbidden you to date that delicious Draco."

Pansy hummed happily to herself and cleaned up the articles on the floor with a wave of her wand. Then she curled up on her bed and began to read. She had almost gotten through the first chapter when she was summoned down to the House common room for Snape to discuss the Triwizard Tournament again with them.

She saw Draco standing by his adoptive father and sighed dreamily before recalling that he had done the ultimate sin and chosen a Gryffindor whore over herself and he needed to be punished for it.

_I'll make you regret that, Draco dearest. _Pansy thought grimly, licking her lips. _But after, you'll be my sweetheart again, and then we'll be happy and I'll steal my trust fund from Daddy's vault and we can live off that in Paris._

Happily ensconced in her wicked fantasies, Pansy gave her Head of House half an ear, and as soon as Snape had wrapped up his talk, she returned to her room and spent the night learning the spells in the little black book by heart.

* * * * * *

"Harry!" Draco called to his little brother as they exited the Quidditch pitch after a practice game two days later. "Got a question for you."

Harry turned and slowed, allowing his green-uniformed brother to catch up to him. "What is it, Draco?"

Draco lowered his voice then asked, "Did Dad give you the bloody talk too?"

Harry flushed and nodded. "Yeah. Guess he felt we needed it since we're uh, involved." He winced. "Was it bloody awful for you too?"

Draco shuddered. "It's on my top ten list of things to never put my kids through, assuming Hermione and I are still together after seventh year."

"Tell me about it. I wanted to die right there, but then I realized it wouldn't be fair to just keel over and leave Katie in the lurch." Harry sniggered.

"Same here. Only he caught Mione and I kissing."

"No _way_! What did you do? I would have Apparated myself into a wall."

"I _wanted_ to, believe me," Draco admitted, relating the incident and blushing ferociously.

Harry started to laugh, but then stopped at Draco's hurt glare. "Sorry. But it's well . . . .kind of funny when you think about it."

"Maybe to you. But think how you would've felt if Dad had caught you and Katie snogging."

"Point taken."

Draco sneezed rapidly. "Damn this cold! If Dad sees he'll make me take a Decongestion Draft, and I bloody hate them."

Harry thought a moment. "I've got a Nasal Elixir in my trunk. It doesn't taste that bad, and it'll keep you from sneezing for about a day."

"Oh wonderful! Can you get it for me?"

Harry Summoned it wordlessly and handed it to his brother. "Take it just before you go to sleep. Next morning you'll be fine."

"Thanks, little brother," Draco said gratefully. He returned to his room just long enough to place the vial upon his nightstand and then it was time for dinner and he was starving.

Little did he know a pair of squinty eyes were watching him.

Pansy smirked selfishly, then spelled the lock open and went inside the fourth-year dormitory. It was time for some much-needed payback, for no one rejected Pansy Maleficence Parkinson and got away with it. Not even pureblood scions of the Malfoy bloodline.

She examined each of the beds in turn, finally recognizing which one was Draco's by the initials upon the trunk at the foot. She drew her wand and tapped it thoughtfully against the bedpost. _Hmm . . .where shall I start?_

Then her eye alighted upon the vial of potion of the nightstand. _Ah. Now that will do nicely._

* * * * * *

Draco returned from a most enjoyable dinner with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Katie, whistling and trying to keep his sniffly nose to a minimum. It was then he recalled Harry's Nasal Elixir upon his nightstand and went to his room to drink it down.

The draft flowed down his throat smooth as silk, and Harry had been right, it tasted ten times better than the usual potions for colds that Snape brewed. He undressed and lay down, waiting for it to start working. He yawned, he was feeling sort of sleepy.

A second later he was freezing and then a sudden fever came over him, the wave of heat spread all through him, causing him to sweat. He was puzzled, because such drafts normally didn't react like that. Little did he know there had been an addition to that potion by a wicked jealous girl.

A few minutes later, Draco began to toss and turn, shivering violently, unquenchable desire sweeping through him, a raging inferno that could not be slaked. _I need . . .oh dear Merlin . . .what the hell is wrong with me?_ Draco whimpered, for he was in agony, his groin aching and burning.

He stumbled to his feet, clenching his teeth, and made his way out of his room and out the portrait hole. _Dad. Got to get my father._

He made it halfway down the corridor to Snape's rooms before collapsing.

Smidgen, who had been coming to check up on Draco before bed, as was her wont, felt his acute distress and blinked to his side. _:Master Draco! What has happened? Are you ill?:_

"Smidgen . . .get help . . .my father . . ."

_:At once, Master Draco!:_ then the shimmerling blinked away to find Severus, leaving Draco weakly convulsing upon the floor, suffering the torment of the Unfaithful Lover.

**So . . .was did you think???**

**Yes, the cliffy is terrible, but you ought to know by now to expect them in any of my stories . . .right?**

**Will Severus and Phil be able to cure Draco? And when Pansy is found out . . .IF she is . . .how should she be made to pay for her actions? Should I set Phil on her? Or Smidgen? Or do something else to punish her? Suggestions would be greatly appreciated. The more ideas I get, the faster I can write the next chapter . . .so help me out!**


	10. Hell Hath No Fury Like A Snape

**Hell Hath No Fury Like A Snape**

_:Severus, come quickly!:_ Smidgen's mindcall was so sharp with fear and urgency that Severus nearly fell out of his bed. He opened his eyes to find the tiny shimmerling hovering a foot from his nose, her violet eyes whirling in extreme agitation.

"Smidgen, what's wrong?"

Before she could answer, he felt his medallion sear him with a warning jolt, which only occurred when one of his immediate family was hit by a powerful curse that was potentially life-threatening. He sat up immediately and threw on a robe and slippers. "Where are my sons?"

_:Draco has been hit by some kind of curse I think. He is lying in the corridor and seems to be in terrible pain. He sent me to get you, Severus.:_

"Find Harry and guard him," snapped Severus, then he was out the door.

Smidgen blinked away, but not before sending a message to Philip, who was inside the Gryffindor common room. He assured her that Harry was safe and sleeping soundly and then told her to watch the Gryffindor while he went to assist Severus.

_:As you will, my lord Snape.:_ the shimmerling replied, then she flew into Harry's room, making sure he was still asleep.

Instead she found him wide awake, rubbing his medallion, which was glowing.

_:Harry, you're awake?:_

"Smidgen! There's something wrong. My amulet's gone nuts, it's glowing and stinging me and I feel really sick all of a sudden, but I don't know why. What happened?"

_:You must share a link with your brother, because Draco has been hurt.:_

"Hurt? How and when?" Harry threw on his Invisibility Cloak.

_:Just now and I believe someone cast a curse on him.:_

"Bloody hell!" Harry swore and for once did not earn a reprimand for using a swear word or two. "How is he?"

_:In a great deal of pain last time I saw him:_ Smidgen admitted candidly.

"Aww hells!" Harry made as if to leave, but the shimmerling mewed softly, and he halted. "What?"

_:I think it best if you wait a bit before going to check on your brother, Harry. Phil and your father are with him and they need space to work and they will feel better if they know you are safe here in the tower instead of roaming the halls at this hour.:_

Harry rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?" He peered at his watch, with its glow-in-the-dark face, which had been a gift from Hermione. "_Three AM!_ Merlin's socks!"

_:Indeed. Now please do as I have suggested, Harry, and stay here until Severus calls you.:_

"But Smidgen, I could help with Draco . . ."

_:Not this time. Stay here, Harry.:_

Harry reluctantly tossed his Invisibility Cloak upon the foot of his bed and settled down on it with a sigh of worried exasperation. "Okay. But please ask Dad to tell me the minute Draco's okay."

_:I shall. Though I'd wager it will take some time to break the curse.:_

Harry nodded, frightened for his brother, his amulet had never reacted that way before and he wondered if Draco might be . . .dying. _Stop that, Harry! Draco's not dying, Dad will fix him just like he fixes all his students who get hurt in potions,_ he scolded himself. He caressed his amulet tentatively, and found the medallion was now cool to the touch. But what did that mean? That the danger was past or that Draco was beyond the amulet's powers of detection? He wished desperately to go and talk to Severus, but he knew Smidgen was right. Draco needed Severus more than he did and so he sat and waited, fighting the urge to bite his nails to shreds.

Smidgen perched upon his shoulder, purring into his ear, and the soft sound soothed him a little, stilling his need to pace about. He bowed his head and prayed his brother would be all right.

* * * * * *

Draco had never felt such exquisite pain in his life. Not all of the canings he had received from Lucius could match this awful pain. He could not comprehend why he was feeling this way at first, especially since he had only drank a Nasal Elixir, but some part of his brain that was not screaming in agony was screaming that the potion had been tampered with and now he might be dying.

_Merlin, make it stop! Please!_ He begged soundlessly, pain radiating outward from his groin on sharp pulsing waves accompanied by a throbbing desire that he had never felt for any girl other than Hermione, and even then it had been a gentle thing, not this awful obsessive need. He gritted his teeth and groaned.

"Draco? Son, what happened?"

Draco opened his eyes and hissed, "Dunno . . .hurts . . .Dad. Make it stop . . .!" To his utter horror he began to cry, tears splashing down his face.

"Easy, Dragon." Severus soothed, slipping his arms beneath his son's lean frame.

Draco yelled when Snape lifted him, he couldn't help it.

"Sorry. Can you tell me what happened, Draco? Was it a curse?"

Severus walked slowly and carefully back to his quarters, his boots tapping rapidly, fear making him feel queasy. First Harry nearly died and now Draco. The boy was pale, paler than a dead flobberworm, and obviously in agony. Just looking at him suffering made Severus's chest ache and tighten, he hated it when one of his children was hurt, it conjured in him an awful feeling of desperation and empathy and he would do whatever it took to make his son's pain cease.

"Drank a Nasal Elixir," Draco managed to get out inbetween clenched teeth.

"A Nasal Elixir shouldn't have done this," Severus murmured, entering his quarters and laying Draco on the couch. "Still, I'll need to examine the vial." He muttered a quick Summoning charm and opened the door.

Both the vial and Phil came into the room, one after the other.

"I'm here to help you break the curse on Draco," the vampire said swiftly.

"How did you know?"

"Smidgen told me. She's with Harry, making sure he stays in his room and doesn't do anything foolish. Apparently he felt something was wrong, said his amulet was acting strangely, glowing and burning."

"As was mine. That has to do with the connection to Prince Manor. Through the amulet we can sense how our relatives who had lived within its walls are, especially if hit with dark magic." Severus returned to Draco's side, and dosed him with a strong Pain Reliever.

Draco sighed in profound relief as the pain eased and then Severus mopped his brow with a cool cloth and asked, "Where does it hurt, Dragon?"

"I ache all over, feels like my blood is on fire, sort of, but mostly . . ." he gestured mutely to his groin.

Severus looked alarmed, then said, "All right, I'm going to banish your pajamas and underpants, I have to examine you and the clothing will interfere with my deep scans."

Draco blushed. "No . . .please, can't you just . . ."

"Son, you have nothing I haven't seen before. Close your eyes if you must, but don't argue." Severus said, gently but firmly. Then he banished the teen's clothing.

"Could be a conventional medical problem, like a bladder infection or kidney stones," Severus told Phil as he ran his wand over his son. "But I doubt it."

Within a minute he had the answer to his scans. "Negative. That's good and not good."

"You could have treated them, but this still leaves you groping in the dark for answers." Phil surmised.

"Now we analyze the potion bottle." Severus said. Draco moaned. "Phil, can you numb him a bit while I analyze?"

"Certainly." He moved over and sat down next to Draco, saying quietly in a tone that brooked no refusal, "Draco, open your eyes and look at me."

Draco did as he was told and soon found himself gazing into a pair of violet eyes. "Uncle Phil? Am . . .I . . .dying?"

"No. Now look deep into my eyes. That's good. Keep looking, keep focusing," Phil began to hum, bring the full force of his vampire ability to hypnotize to the fore. "Your pain is leaving . . .you feel nothing but a soothing warmth, you are beyond feeling pain, you are surrounded by a bubble of sleepiness. Close your eyes and let yourself drift . . ."

Draco fell instantly under the master vampire's seductive mental urging and allowed Phil to send him to sleep, sweet release from the awful throbbing pain.

Severus concentrated upon analyzing the dregs of the potion, and found that it had been tampered with using what could amount to a dark curse. But the curse itself eluded him. He cast several Revealing Charms, all came up with curse unknown results. He longed to tear his hair out in frustration.

"Anything?" Phil asked.

"No. The potion was definitely tampered with, but the curse isn't a standard one. Or at least not one a Revealing Charm can recognize. And his symptoms are not ones I recognize."

He began to tick them off on his fingers, until Phil said,"Stop! His groin is swollen and painful . . .why target that area? Unless this is not a curse meant to kill, but one to humiliate and hurt. Has he broken up with any girls lately, Severus?"

"Not that I know of. He was cradle betrothed to Pansy Parkinson, but her father called off the match when Draco renounced his Death Eater ties and became my ward. He has only recently been seeing Hermione Granger, and she would never cast something like this upon him."

"What about the other girl?"

"Parkinson? She's not bright enough to create a spell like this."

"What if it wasn't created, but learned?"

Severus's mouth thinned. "It's possible. God knows jealous adolescent girls have done similar things before this—it's why we don't teach spells of amour and love charms and so forth. Too much potential for abuse. I would hate to think a Slytherin would disregard my authority and actually hex my son after what was done to the others who tried it, but jealousy drives you to commit acts of betrayal."

Phil nodded darkly, one hand resting protectively upon Draco's blond head. "I would search the girl's room, but I need to stay near him in order to keep the veil of sleep flowing, since I didn't put him under a full Command. And you need to keep trying to identify the curse, so the only one who could search the girl's room with impunity is Smidgen."

"And if she finds something, then what? She cannot remove it and give it to us a proof."

"Right. She would need a pair of hands, invisible ones."

Severus frowned, getting immediately what Phil was hinting at. "I don't like involving Harry in this, but we need to see if Pansy is guilty. Can you call Smidgen with your vampire telepathy?"

"Yes," Phil answered, and did so.

* * * * * *

Ten minutes later, Harry waited outside the Slytherin portrait hole, shrouded in his Invisibility Cloak. Smidgen was already inside and promised to call him if she found anything radiating dark magic. Until then he would have to wait, for Severus only allowed him to enter the girl's dormitory because it was extenuating circumstances.

"If Smidgen calls you, you are to go in, retrieve whatever it is, and leave. Don't dawdle or gape at anyone else or touch anything. I don't care what or who it is. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Harry had promised, and now he waited.

Smidgen was flitting about inside the girls' dormitory, her cat's night vision allowing her to see in the dark, and actually it wasn't pitch black because someone had left a nightglobe on, just in case a trip to the lavatory was necessary. The shimmerling, normally sensitive to magical auras, quivered in suppressed rage as she flew into the dorm where the fourth year girls slept.

The stench of dark magic slammed into her as soon as she entered, making her hiss and gag. It was not as strong because it was no longer active, but Smidgen could feel it oozing over her like a greasy slimy film. She wrinkled her nose and sneezed twice._ Faugh! The smell of dark magic makes me want to retch up a hairball . . .no several hairballs . . ._ She hissed and her mouth worked, as if trying to get a nasty taste from her mouth.

But while there had been a pitiable attempt to dispel the dark aura from the room, Smidgen was far more perceptive than your average wizard or feline, so she could follow the traces easily. Tail lashing and a low growl rumbling through her, Smidgen sought the source of the evil magic. It was familiar, somehow, this taint. _I have smelled this before . . .back when I served exclusively in the palace, when Oberon was King and Titania merely his consort._ The fae cat searched her memory, which was long but clear even after five centuries.

And while she did so she brushed up against a wooden trunk. There was where the taint originated, she could feel the wood and leather enclosing the darkness. _Here! It is here, within this box and Moon and Stars! I remember now! Only one kind of spell carries this kind of sharp tang, like merlinnas gone sour. Spells of compulsion and desire, spells to harm and to bind, spells that were once commonplace in the Seelie court—for the vengeance of a lover scorned was no laughing matter among the fae, though love was something most never found. Ah yes, the bitterness of a jealous lover is not a scent I shall easily forget. And this spell—the spell of the Unfaithful One—was once a common tool of retribution, until Titania_ _became queen and banished those who used such and forbade those magics to be used ever again._

The results of such spells were varied but all were painful and degrading and no child should have to suffer such a thing, the shimmerling thought furiously. No fae of good alliance would harm a human child—any child—in that manner. The very idea was abhorrent. There was little doubt in Smidgen's mind that Draco had become the victim of such a spell.

She knew that the grimoire was inside the trunk and since the lock was iron, she could not magic it away. So she called to Harry, who spoke the password to the portrait hole and slipped inside, following Smidgen's directions until he saw the shimmerling hovering over a trunk.

He approached soundlessly, blessing Severus for teaching him _kin-sa-dor_, because he could now move quietly when he needed to, and he soon made his way across the floor and next to the trunk at the foot of a bed. The curtains were drawn, so he could not see the person sleeping, but as he whispered a soft "_Alohomora_!" to unlock the trunk, he caught sight of the initials upon the brass plate facing him.

_PMP_. _Pansy Parkinson, I'd wager my whole vault on it._ He thought angrily, knowing full well how Pansy would resent Draco going out with Hermione, but even he hadn't thought the witch could be so vindictive. _What a nasty bitch, hexing my brother that way! _Smidgen had told him what Philip and Severus were trying to do and Harry had immediately volunteered to help.

He carefully pulled out what was in the trunk until he came to s small leatherbound book, like the kind you would keep a diary in. He picked it up and Smidgen hissed, _:That's it! Put it inside your robes and let us bring it to Severus and Phil immediately.:_

"Half a minute, I need to put all this stuff back. If she notices the book's missing, she could think she misplaced it or something, but not if I don't put everything back the way I found it." Harry told the fae cat. He carefully placed all the items back and shut the trunk and locked it.

Then he drew up the hood of his cloak and vanished from view.

He was out of the Slytherin portrait hole in a flash and heading towards the Snape rooms. _I really hope this will help Draco, but Merlin, Dad and Uncle Phil are going to be frothing at the mouth like a seriously mad dragon!_

* * * * * *

That was the understatement of the year, Harry thought later. Phil's eyes glowed an eerie blood red and for a second Harry was sure the vampire was going to bust through the Slytherin portrait hole and savage Pansy, or at the least scare the crap out of her. Severus grew very still, his mouth a grim line, and only his dark eyes showed the depths of his anger, they blazed obsidian fire. Harry knew that if his father hadn't had such incredible discipline over his emotions, he might have stormed into the girls' dormitory and hexed Pansy then and there. Smidgen, surprisingly was the worst of the trio, the fae cat practically had steam coming out of her ears and her fur seemed shot through with small jets of lightning. It was also standing up in spikes along her back and head.

_:Forbidden magic!Did she really think she could get away with such, and no one would know? She forgets, Draco is a son of Prince Manor, and we are pledged to protect him from all who would do him harm—all, even spoilt jealous little witches! She needs to be taught a good lesson about playing with dark magic!:_

"You are right, Smidgen, but first I must see to my son," Severus reprimanded softly. "He is more important than punishing Pansy at the moment. At least I have the spellbook now and can use it to perform a countercharm and treat thesymptoms which may linger with potions." He flipped rapidly through the book until he came to the Unfaithful Lover hex and began to read it.

Harry studied his brother, who was still out from Phil's hypnotic charm. His face was still creased with lines of pain, but he remained sleeping, his blond hair tousled like a small boy's. He had a sheet draped discreetly over his lower half, though Harry could see a bare foot poking out from beneath it.

Philip was sitting next to his brother, perched casually on the arm of the sofa, one hand resting lightly on Draco's head. His fangs were showing and the sight of the enlarged canines made a shudder run through Harry, though he knew he had nothing to fear from the ancient vampire, the mere sight of those teeth was enough to give him the willies. "He'll be okay, won't he, Uncle Phil?"

The violet eyes met his and Philip nodded. "Your father is one of the best Potions Masters and medics I have ever seen, and that is saying something, when you consider how long I have walked the earth. I have faith that he will restore Draco to full health. Your brother is a fighter, like all of the Snapes."

"I know. But what she did to him . . ." Harry scowled. "Nasty evil pug-faced bitch! I'd love to give her a taste of her own medicine, but I just remembered that we have no proof the book belongs to her. Her name wasn't in it."

"You opened the book?" Phil snapped, alarmed.

"Just the cover, to see if her name was in it." Harry said defensively. "I didn't look at any of the spells. But how can we accuse her of hexing Draco without proof?"

The master vampire sighed. "You are correct, Harry. Without proof that she owned the book, we cannot do much. You certainly cannot admit that you sneaked into her room and found the book in her trunk and Smidgen cannot reveal herself either. But she shall not get away with this, little Snape. If we cannot accuse her openly, perhaps there may be a way to get her to admit her own guilt."

"How? With Veritaserum?"

"Veritaserum is illegal to gain confessions from underage wizards," Severus interjected. "Forget about her for the moment. I need you two to help me form a circle to break this curse. It requires the love of family and friends in order to shatter it."

"Friends?" Harry repeated. "Like a girlfriend? Maybe we ought to wake up Hermione then. She really _likes_ Draco."

"Believe me, I _know_," his father remarked wryly. Then he thought about Harry's suggestion. "Yes. Her positive feelings will help to balance the negative influence."

"Okay. I'll send Frost to her with a note and tell her to make sure she wakes up and reads it." Harry said, scribbling rapidly on a spare piece of parchment. Then he whistled, and Frost woke up from her perch beside Phantom, the two preferred to roost in Sev's apartments instead of the Owlery.

The white owl blinked once, then held out her foot obediently for Harry to tie the message to. "Go to Hermione, Frosty. And make sure you wake her up to get this, all right?"

Frost bobbed her head in understanding, then Harry opened the door to Snape's quarters and she flew away. He knew she could get into the portrait hole, since all the owls were allowed in and out of the dorms.

Some ten minutes later there came a knock at the door, and Harry opened it to admit Hermione, who was dressed in a fluffy pink terry robe and slippers, her hair tousled, but she was wide awake despite the obscenely early hour. "Harry, what's happened to Draco? Is he okay? What did you mean, you needed me to help break a curse? Who cursed him?"

"Pansy Parkinson," Harry answered, shutting the door behind her. "Cast some kind of awful hex on him, something called the Curse of the Unfaithful Lover. It hurt him really bad, Hermione. That's why Uncle Phil . . ." Harry stumbled to a halt, only then realizing that Hermione didn't know about Philip.

"It's all right, Harry." Philip called from where he was sitting. "I would have introduced myself sooner or later, especially if Draco was serious about her."

Hermione looked up at the violet-eyed visitor and gasped. "Oh dear Merlin! Are you Professor Snape's brother?"

"No, I am his . . .uncle, shall we say, though in fact the relationship is a bit more complicated than that," Philip said, smiling. "My name is Philip Anthony Snape, and I am pleased to meet you."

Hermione came forward to shake his hand, thinking that he was one of the hottest men she had ever seen in her life, even better looking than Severus with his hair washed. "Likewise, sir. I'm Hermione Granger." Then she saw them and her jaw dropped. "Jumping Jinxes! You're a—a-vampire!"

"I am. A very old one," Philip said, his eyes twinkling. "I'm here to guard Harry and Draco and Severus from harm." He stroked Draco's hair. "Right now I'm keeping Draco asleep so he doesn't suffer any more pain from the curse."

"Which is why we called you here, Miss Granger," Severus said. "The curse cast upon my son is one that needs to be broken by a circle of wizards, ones who share ties of blood and friendship with the victim. Draw your wand and take up position by Draco's feet, you shall be the west quadrant, Philip the east. Harry, you stand behind the couch, you are north, and I shall be south and Invoker."

They assumed their positions, wands drawn, all save for Phil, and Severus said, "All of you focus your thoughts upon Draco, and send him peaceful and comforting wishes for his recovery. Focus on how important he is to you personally, and then repeat the following words after me." He chanted a string of words in Latin.

One by one, Hermione, Harry, and Philip repeated them, and then a bright violet light flared from Snape's ebony wand and then from each of the apprentice's wands and Philip's hands, connecting them together before coalescing into a shaft of brilliant violet light that washed over Draco's prone form, concealing it from view for a brief instant.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating hard on sending his love to his brother, and he felt the magic conjured tug at him, filling him with a sense of peace and renewal, hope and healing.

Hermione kept her focus upon Draco even when she could no longer see him, she projected her concern and love and her fervent wish that he be cured fiercely, feeding the spell with the formidable power of her magic.

Severus too sent his love and wish that his child be well and the combined strengths of the three wizards plus the ancient vampire, gave the spell power enough to shatter the web of jealousy and hate that had formed the core of the hex Pansy had cast.

A minute or two later, the violet light vanished and Phil declared that Draco was no longer tainted with dark magic, the curse was broken. Severus closed the circle, and went back to preparing a special potion that would ease the stress the curse had placed upon Draco's body and break the fever he had developed.

Hermione went over to touch the sleeping Draco's face tenderly. "You're going to be all right now, Draco."

"Thank you for helping him, Miss Granger," Severus said sincerely.

"I was happy to help. But oh, how I'd like to hex that . . .that . . .bitch till she howls!" Hermione declared, her fists clenched and her eyes shining with the wrath of a lioness.

"So would we all," Harry said feelingly. "Dad, can we help you with the potion?"

"Yes. Come with me into the lab, I need a number two standard pewter cauldron and powdered calendula root, ground lavender buds . . ."

The two wizards followed the Potions Master into his private lab connected to his quarters by a secret revolving door in the wall, leaving Phil and Smidgen with the sleeping Draco.

_:Now that the curse has been broken, Master Draco can rest easy. I am so happy he will recover.:_ Smidgen sent sincerely. Then her mind voice hardened. _:But there is still the wicked witch to deal with. She must be taught never to harm a Snape again.:_

Philip bared his fangs. "And so she will be. Hell hath no fury like a Snape roused to venegeance. How shall we make the girl regret her actions and admit her guilt, Smidgen?"

_:That will be easy, for a dreamweaver has influence over the subconscious, and I am sure together we can influence her in dreams. Do you know how to project yourself into the Realm of Dreams, Nightwalker?:_

"I do. When shall we begin?"

_:What is it humans say? There is no time like the present.:_ the shimmerling sent, then she blinked away, and a moment later Philip rose and followed.

* * * * * *

**The First Dream:**

_"In the Realm of Dreams, a dreamweaver rules," Smidgen told Phil as he appeared beside her in the misty meadow of the dreamscape. She had grown from her usual three inch height to a larger panther-like cat with beautiful butterfly wings. "You wish to be involved in the dreams, yes?"_

_"Of course. I wish to mete out some justice to the conceited child."_

_"Good. We shall start then by sending her a dream centered around her childhood and Draco's. From what Draco told me, she was an unpleasant spoiled brat even then and got him beaten on a number of occasions when he refused to play with her."_

_The shimmerling walked towards the formless mist at the edge of the meadow. "Come, Phil."_

_The vampire followed, watching avidly as the shimmerling expertly wove the stuff of raw dreams into shape and then cast it towards the sleeping consciousness of Pansy, who lay sleeping without regrets. That was about to change._

_* * * * * *_

_"You **have** to do what I say, Draco!" five-year-old Pansy declared shrilly, stamping her foot upon the ground. She was wearing a frilly blue dress and a fluffy white cloak, she looked adorable, but the scowl on her round face was anything but attractive._

_"But I don't want to play stupid tea party. I want to play Exploding Snap." Draco replied, he was the same age, dressed in blue trousers and a white collared shirt with a dragon logo on the pocket. He wore and equally stubborn expression._

_"No! **I'm** the guest and you do what **I** say! Or else I'll tell your father!" Pansy yelled._

_"You're nothing but a boring old girl and I'm never marrying you!"_

_"Yes you will! You have to!"_

_"Do not!"_

_"Do so! My daddy says so! You're gonna marry me and make me a princess. So there!" she threw him a look of triumph._

_"No! I hate you!" Draco screamed. "I'd rather marry a toad."_

_Suddenly Pansy was clutching a wand and hissing, "If I can't have you, than no one shall! You belong to me, Draco Malfoy!"_

_In that instant, she was no longer a child, but a fourteen-year-old girl and her face became cruel and hard, filled with obsessive jealousy and hate. The curse flowed from her wand and struck Draco, making him fall to the ground._

_Pansy laughed. "That'll teach you!" she sneered and went to flounce away, only to run right into a very angry Philip. "Eeek!" she yelped, and tried to run, but he caught her before she could flee and all at once she was a child again. "Lemme go!" she kicked Philip in the stomach. "You bloody vampire! Lemme go b'fore I tell my daddy and he sticks a stake through your heart." She struggled, kicking and squirming to no avail. "Where's my wand! I want my wand!"_

_"Little girls who misbehave don't get wands," Philip intoned sternly. "Witches who misuse their magic and cast dark curses get punished." His fangs showed stark white against his blood-red lips._

_"He deserved it!" Pansy wailed. "He was mine first!"_

_"Draco belongs to himself and what you did is forbidden by every code of conduct in the wizarding world."_

_"So what? Nobody rejects me!" she spat. "Put me down! I mean it!"_

_"Do you not understand that what you did was wrong? That you could have seriously hurt Draco? Is that how you behave with someone you love, girl?" Phil snarled, shaking her._

_"Who cares? He should be grateful I didn't kill him for scorning me!"_

_"You are a wicked child, spoiled and selfish, but perhaps you can still be taught the error of your ways." The violet eyes hardened. "Little children who play around with dark magic need to be taught a lesson."_

_"By you? Who do you think you are?"_

_"I am Draco's uncle and no one hurts my nephew and gets away with it." Phil declared, then he flipped the child over his knee, flicked up her skirt and began to spank her soundly._

_By the time he had finished she was howling and squirming, having never been subjected to such chastisement before in her life. He set her on her feet and hissed, "Remember, that is what happens to wicked little girls who use dark magic for whatever reason."_

_Pansy burst into tears and screeched, "I HATE you! You can't prove it was me! You can't!" _

_Then she sprinted off through the garden of Malfoy Manor, holding her very sore bottom, bawling loudly._

_* * * * * *_

Pansy jerked awake, it was just after five o'clock, she was all wrapped up in her coverlet. She groped for her wand and spoke a quick _Lumos_. _What a strange dream I had. Crazy really. _She rubbed her eyes. Usually she didn't recall her dreams, but this one she remembered in vivid detail, especially the angry vampire who had paddled her so soundly. She flinched and went to rub her bottom automatically_, _and discovered to her horror that it was very sore, just like in her dream.

She kicked off her covers frantically and raced out of the room and into the bathroom to examine her backside. It was red and stinging . . ._as_ _if she had actually been spanked._ Eyes wide, she whimpered and shook her head in denial. _It was just a dream! How can a dream become real?_ She recalled the vampire scolding her, his deep voice sharp with anger and disapproval. _"Remember, that is what happens to wicked little girls who use dark magic for whatever reason."_

"Bloody stupid dream!" she spat, kicking the counter. "Bloody f-ing vampire!" She rubbed her bottom and then returned to her room, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep before classes, only to find that she was too afraid to close her eyes. _No one knows what I did. No one. Except maybe that stupid dream vampire._ Swallowing hard, she turned on her side, hoping that Draco was hurting as much as she was, if not more.

Surrounded by veils from mortal sight, Phil and Smidgen watched from a corner of the room. "She is still not regretting her actions. How was it that what I did in the Realm of Dreams affected her in the real world?"

_:A dreamweaver may induce psychosomatic dreams if she so chooses,:_ Smidgen replied. _:Meaning that sometimes what happens in dreams can be translated by the mind to reflect the body. The effects will fade in twenty-four hours, they are not permanent. But it is my hope that she will learn from it.:_

"Hmm. You are dangerous, my Lady Catkin. I would not like having you for an enemy." Phil said, and bowed to her. "Turning dreams into reality . . ."

_:That is not something I do lightly, but in this case . . .justice is served.:_ the shimmerling replied, flicking her wings. _:You make a dangerous enemy too, Nightwalker. Perhaps another session tonight?:_

"Yes. That spanking is something her father ought to have done long ago. But next time perhaps a different approach is needed." Phil declared grimly.

Smidgen hissed in agreement, then the two returned to Severus's rooms.

They found a shaky Draco sitting up drinking a vial of a purple potion slowly, while a smiling Harry and Hermione looked on and Severus ran a diagnostic on him. The blond Slytherin's eyes widened as Phil stepped into the room. He set down the half-finished vial and stared. "Uh . . .Uncle Phil . . .you're not wearing your veils . . ."

"Finish your potion, Draco." Severus ordered. "It's all right. Philip and . . .Hermione have met."

Draco whistled. "Huh. I missed a lot while I was out, I guess." His eyes slid to his girlfriend. "How did you know I was hurt, Mione?"

She shrugged. "Intuition." She lifted her hand and brushed a lock of his hair off his forehead. "Drink your potion, it'll make you feel better."

"You make me feel better," he murmured, one hand capturing hers.

She picked up the potion bottle. "Drink, silly dragon."

He drank and she held the vial to his lips, smiling and looking deep into his gray eyes. When he had finished, she set the vial down, and gently kissed him. It was brief kiss and yet it made him feel energized and better than he had since he had taken that cursed Nasal Elixir. She tasted of mint and sunlight and it was with reluctance that he drew away from her. "Maybe I should get myself hexed more often, if this is what I get from it."

"Draco!" she promptly swatted him on the head with a potions periodical. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, you hear?"

"Me either," Harry said, snickering.

"Or me," Severus added.

"I second that," Philip agreed.

_:We are all glad you're on the mend, Draco.:_

"Okay. Next time I'll try and watch my back, but I never thought I'd need to worry about stupid psycho ex-girlfriends." He made a face. "Actually, she was never my girlfriend, only an annoyance."

"I am _so_ glad to hear that," Hermione said.

"How long do I have to stay in bed, Dad?"

"At least for two days, that curse took quite a toll on you and your magic, son." Severus said. "You need to rest and take more of my potions to replenish your magic."

Draco groaned. "Aww . . .Merlin! Can I have visitors? Because I'm going to go spare stuck in here with nothing to do but read potions journals, even though I like potions."

"Yes, Dragon, you may have your friends here to visit, _after_ you take a long rest," said his father. "They can come by for lunch and after classes for awhile."

"All right! I can finally sleep during classes and not get in trouble." He grinned, then leaned back with his hands behind his head, the picture of a lazy relaxed teenager.

Harry exchanged glances with Hermione. "You do know his favorite pastime is sleeping, right?"

Hermione giggled. "Of course. It's every teenager's, except maybe mine."

"And mine."

"That's 'cause you two are abnormal," Draco drawled, yawning. "But don't worry, Mione. I still like you."

"_So_ happy to hear that, Draco," laughed Hermione.

He grinned his sweet grin at her, the one that made her knees go weak.

"Okay, you two, enough with the eye thingy, you're making me sick," Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He turned to look at Severus. "So how long will Parkinson get in detention? The rest of the term?"

"If we could prove she was the one who hexed you, at least that long," Severus said, his tone hard. "But first we need proof."

"But Harry found the book in her trunk! So why . . .oh."

"Exactly. We cannot reveal that Harry was snooping around in Slytherin territory, especially in the girls' dormitory. So we have to find another way to get Miss Parkinson to reveal herself."

"Leave that to me," Philip growled softly.

Draco cast one look at him and gulped audibly. "Merlin, but I am really glad it wasn't me who got him mad. Pansy better find a deep hole and bury herself."

"That won't stop me," was all the vampire said, licking his lips pointedly. "Don't look like that, Sev. I won't hurt her . . .much."

_:And by the time we are done, she will confess her crime to you, Wizard Snape,:_ Smidgen put in.

Severus said nothing, for he too was still angry over what had happened to his son and he had no control over Philip or Smidgen in any case. Fae justice was often harsh, but the Seelie Court's version was mostly fair as well.

* * * * * *

Over the next three days, Pansy went from a smug thing to a drawn out sleepless hag. This was mostly because of the nightly visitations by Smidgen and Philip, who haunted her dreams like the Christmas Spirits had Scrooge. The second dream arrived the night after Draco had been cursed, and before then she had been the victim of a Bad Odor hex that made her stink to high heaven like fresh manure, making _everyone_ step back from her. By the time she had stopped reeking, it was lunch but no one wanted to sit next to her. Then she had tried to eat, and everything she reached for kept jumping away from her, the bowl jumped a foot across the table and the spoon slithered after it, even her plate kept sliding around, and whenever she tried to cancel the annoying spell, she found herself babbling nonsense words.

She ended up fleeing the hall in tears, still hungry and missing completely the high five Harry and Hermione gave each other.

"Score one for the Snapes," Harry chuckled. "That was brilliant, Hermione. Where'd you learn that spell?"

"Oh, you'd be amazed what you can learn when you read in the library," Hermione replied sweetly. "Never mess with a Snape, Harry. Or their girlfriend."

* * * * * *

**The Second Dream:**

_Pansy pointed her wand and altered the potion sitting on Draco's nightstand. "There! That'll teach you to choose a Mudblood over me!" she declared._

_No sooner had she done that, then a dark figure loomed over her. "Still playing around with dark magic, I see."_

_Pansy screamed. "No! Oh no! Not YOU again! Go away!"_

_"And what will you do if I don't? Will you curse me like you did Draco?" Phil bared his fangs. "Oh yes, I know you cursed him. You cannot hide the truth from ME, child. I see it in your mind. You are as guilty as Morgan leFay when she seduced Arthur."_

_"Just get out, bloodsucker!" she pointed her wand at him, her hand trembling._

_His eyes glowed blood-red. "You dare to curse me, little girl?" A second later he was lunging at her, fangs bared._

_Pansy's shriek could have been heard across the Realms. She dropped her wand and fled, screaming bloody murder, down the hall, which suddenly morphed from stone walls to a living breathing tunnel of vines that wrapped about her, prickling her all over, and tiny mouths appeared with sharp teeth, hissing, "Guilty, you are guilty! Guilty! Guilty! And now you must pay, dark sorceress!"_

_Then the vines fastened upon her arms and began to feed . . ._

* * * * * *

She woke shrieking . . .and found that her arms were covered with round sucker-like bites. "Oh my God! Look at me!" she wailed. "I'm covered in these disgusting bites!"

"Ah, shut it, willya, Parkinson!" cried an irate Millicent Bulstrode. "I'm tryin' to sleep here."

"Sleep? How can you sleep when these things keep happening to me!" sobbed Pansy, wringing her hands. "My nightmares are coming alive."

"Good for you! Now go ask Snape for Dreamless Sleep and get over it!" Millicent snapped, then she turned over and buried her head in her pillow. "Merlin have mercy!"

Finding no sympathy from her Housemates, Pansy fled to the bathroom, where she tried unsuccessfully to remove the sucker welts with Magical Blemish Remover. Even more terrifying was the fact that the dreams were getting worse.

All that day, unexplained mishaps plagued her. Her homework vanished in Transfiguration, resulting in a detention with McGonagall. Her shoes became glued to the earth in Care of Magical Creatures and she fell flat on her face in front of the box of Electrifying Scorpions, startling them and causing one to zap her in the bum.

"Oww!" she yelped and the whole class burst out laughing.

But the worst was yet to come.

On her way to the girls' bathroom on the first floor, she passed Hermione and Harry, and couldn't resist sneering and asking, "Hey, Snape! How's your brother? I heard somebody hexed him good."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "What's it to you, Parkinson?"

"Oh, nothing." She said airily and walked away, her nose in the air.

She entered the bathroom, going to check her make-up in the mirror.

"AHH-HHH!"

She put her hands to her face in horror.

"Merlin help me! I've got SNAKES for hair! My HAIR!"

Her dark long hair was her one beauty and now it had been transformed into a mass of writhing hissing snakes. "I look like MEDUSA!"

Frantically, she turned and ran for the Hospital Wing, holding her bag over her head, but it did not cover her entire head, and as she raced past, people began to snigger and mock her.

"Nice do, Parkinson!"

"Is that some new Slytherin pride motif?"

"You trying out for Ugliest Girl in school?"

Several Gryffindor girls began hissing and wriggling their fingers at her and a group of Ravenclaws screamed and held up mirrors.

All in all, it had been a most awful humiliating day.

Exhausted, she threw herself down on her bed, Madam Pomfrey had managed to remove the hex on her hair, saying it had been a clever bit of an Illusion Charm, not a true Transfiguration. "But whoever hexed you dear, was first rate with illusion charms."

But once again, as soon as she closed her eyes, the vampire came for her, with his terrible red eyes and hateful smirk, chastising her for cursing Draco.

**The Third Dream:**

_"Why can't you leave me ALONE?" she yelled, balling her fists and stamping her foot like a petulant child. This time they were in a kind of forest, where all the trees were twisted and grotesque. "What is it that you want from me?"_

_He folded his arms across his chest. "To admit that you were wrong."_

_"About what?" she pouted._

_"About cursing Draco. You say you did it to keep him, but you never owned him."_

_"I did! He was promised to ME!"_

_"And now the contract was broken, but even if it were not, it was made without his consent. An unconsenting partner makes a betrothal contract null and void."_

_"No!"_

_"Yes. It has always been so, since the beginning. Love cannot live in the unwilling heart. And Draco's heart is not filled with love for you."_

_"Because SHE stole him from me!"_

_"Child, you cannot steal what has been freely given. He_ _chose her, and using dark magic to possess him will not bring him back. To love is to set free. Accept it."_

_"No! He is mine!"_

_"He belongs to himself," Philip snapped. "And if you loved him, as you say, you would have never hurt him over your jealous pride."_

_"It was payback, bloodsucker!"_

_"And that is why you shall never have him. Was the book of dark spells yours?"_

_"What if it was?"_

_"Dark magic is forbidden. And wrong."_

_She shrugged insolently. "Why do you care?"_

_"You trod a dangerous path. The darkness will consume you in the end, foolish child. Unless you turn your back on it."_

_"Up yours, vampire!"_

_"You do not want me as your enemy."_

_"I'll see you dead, bloodsucker."_

_"You wish," he snarled, then he was on her, and this time she felt his teeth puncture her wrist. _

_She screamed._

_"Quiet!" he ordered menacingly. She froze. "You ask why I am here. It is simple. I am here to get you to admit your guilt and I shall keep walking your dreams until you do so. Every night, you shall sleep and I will be there, every time you close your eyes, I shall be waiting."_

_"No. No, please."_

_"Do you wish to be free of me?"_

_"Yes!"_

_"Then you must face up to your actions and take the consequences. Until then the dreams will continue. Your choice."_

That time when she woke there was blood on her wrist, but no puncture wounds.

All of Slytherin was talking about Draco and who might have cursed him, and there was a distinct current of disapproval running through the House, especially among the girls, who thought Draco was cute, that whoever had hexed him deserved to pay. They did not know the details, but they learned the curse might have killed him if Professor Snape hadn't removed it in time. Rumor had it he was still looking for the perpetrator.

"If anyone has any information regarding this matter, you are to come to me immediately."

She shivered recalling the iciness in his voice and the look in his eyes. _If he ever knew it was me . . .I would be expelled._

The mysterious pranks also continued, and every day she was the target of laughter and the humiliation coupled with the lack of sleep was starting to get to her. She felt eyes on her all the time, asleep and awake, after a week she felt like a zombie and looked like one too.

But she finally snapped one afternoon, when she went to look in her trunk for a spare set of robes, hers had suddenly developed purple and pink polka dots, and found the black book missing. A panicked search turned up nothing and dread swept through her. She tore apart her possessions, but it was nowhere to be found. _The professor knows. He must know . . .he knows everything . . ._

She bolted out of her dorm and into the common room, only to run smack into her Head.

He raised an eyebrow. "Going somewhere, Parkinson?"

"No! I mean yes . . ."

"You look like you're up to no good."

He fixed her with a penetrating knowing gaze.

She crumbled then, for it was all too much. The dreams, the pranks, everything . . ."Don't send me to Azkaban, Professor! I don't wanna get my soul sucked out by a dementor," she wailed and then burst into noisy sobs.

"And why would you deserve to go to Azkaban? What have you done?"

"It was me, sir! I . . .I hexed Draco! Please don't send me there," she blubbered.

"You hexed my son?"

"Yes! The black book is mine." Snot dribbled down her face as she grabbed the front of his robes.

He jerked his robes free, a look of disgust and anger stealing over his face. "Come with me, Parkinson," he said in a clipped deadly tone, and he fastened a hand upon her shoulder and dragged her out of the common room.

**A/N: Thank you all for giving me ideas about Pansy's punishment, they were greatly appreciated, although I could not use all of them. **

**You can find out what Severus does to her next chapter and the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons finally arrive for the Tournament.**

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	11. Arrivals and Departures

**Arrivals and Departures**

Pansy whimpered, a look of dread on her pug-like face, as Snape hauled her down the hallway and up the stairs to the upper levels of the castle. "Sir, please! Don't expel me, please! My parents would die of shame if that happened." She started to cry again.

"Quit with that sniveling! Crocodile tears won't work on me, Miss Parkinson!" The professor growled. "You should have thought about that _before_ you resorted to dark spells and hexed my son because of your pitiful obsession. Now you will face the consequences of your actions. We are going to pay a visit to the Headmaster, Parkinson, for any student caught using dark magic knowingly must be reported to him."

"Is he gonna . . .expel me?" she whined, making Snape long to shake her till her head fell off.

"I have no idea, Parkinson. Though if it were me in his place, I would have your wand snapped and you sent out of the castle on a rail. Your playing about with dark spells might well have killed or permanently harmed Draco!" His hand closed even tighter about her wrist, and she yelped. He ignored her and half-dragged her to the gargoyle statue.

"Acid Pops," he muttered, then the gargoyle slid aside and the two stepped up onto the staircase. "You ought to count yourself lucky that Dumbledore is Headmaster, girl. Perhaps he will show you mercy. I, on the other hand, feel like showing you the back of my hand, you conniving little vixen!"

Pansy sniffled, terrified. She had never seen the Potions Master so furious before and all of his formidable temper was directed at her. "I . . .I didn't mean to hurt Draco, sir. I only wanted to . . .to teach him a lesson."

Snape whirled on her, looming like some gigantic raptor, his eyes blazing black fire. "Oh really?" he hissed, and the quiet tone was somehow a dozens times scarier than if he had screamed at her. "Lying does not become you, girl. Don't bother trying to convince me with your pitiful excuses, save that for the Headmaster. For I know the truth. You thought to play the wronged lover, seeking repayment for my son's refusal of your advances, and when ordinary means failed, you turned to dark enchantments to revenge yourself upon him. You did not care how you hurt him, so long as your pride was satisfied. And that is the truth, Parkinson, and both of us know it! Now you reap what you sow, and fake tears and platitudes will not save you."

They had reached Dumbledore's office and Severus rapped sharply upon the door, hoping that the old wizard had not left for a meeting with the Minister or Ludo Bagman or Bartemius Crouch, Senior.

"Come in," called Dumbledore.

Severus entered, hauling Pansy behind him like a sack of oats. "Good afternoon, Headmaster. I have a grave breach of school rules to report to you."

"Severus! My, but you look mad enough to spit fire like a Hungarian Horntail. What seems to be the problem?" the Headmaster asked, sensing immediately that Severus's temper had reached its boiling point and it would not do to act as if this were an ordinary visit.

"Here is the problem, Headmaster. Miss Parkinson has admitted to me this afternoon that she was behind the hexing of Draco, that she knowingly used a book of dark magic to cast a spell to cause grievous harm upon my son." He withdrew a slender black volume from the pocket of his robes. "Here is the tome of black witchery." He tossed it to the Headmaster, who caught it and opened it, examining it with a frown.

Pansy groaned when she saw the familiar volume, but stopped at a thunderous look from her Head of House.

Snape's hands gripped her shoulders firmly from behind, holding her fast like some vicious bird-of-prey, forcing her to stand before the Headmaster's desk, ignoring the comfortable horsehair stuffed chairs in the front of it.

Dumbledore was silent for several minutes as he perused the slender volume, his frown growing darker and darker as he did so. When he finally closed the book with a sharp snap and lifted his eyes to the irate Head of Slytherin and his misbehaving student, his formally twinkling eyes were dark with disapproval, disappointment, and anger. "Miss Parkinson, you have committed a very serious breach of school policy by having this book upon your person, and even worse, studying it and casting the spell within its pages. As a member of Slytherin House, I don't think I need to tell you how much your actions have hurt the integrity and honor of your House, which Professor Snape has been trying to improve this year. Your actions reflect poorly upon your Housemates, your Head of House, and especially yourself. Not to mention the school as a whole. Hogwarts was once home to a powerful dark wizard, unknowingly, but I swore afterwards that I would not allow dark magic to be practiced ever again within its walls." He half rose, his cerulean flashing chained lightning. "And yet I find you casting spells of darkest compulsion and agony upon a fellow student, your Housemate no less! What have you to say for yourself, young lady?"

Pansy began to blubber and weep, but Dumbledore remained firm, for once, not giving an inch, glowering down upon her like a stern inflexible judge of the Wizengamut.

"I'm am waiting for an explanation," the Headmaster said in a steely tone few had ever heard him use.

Severus gave her a slight shake. "Answer the Headmaster, Parkinson!"

"O-Okay!" She stuttered, then began offering up the same lame excuses she had given to Severus, her eyes wide in frightened desperation.

Dumbledore listened intently to her halting rendition of the night she had altered Draco's nighttime draft of Nasal Elixir. "I did it to get back at him for going out with a stupid Gryffie! How could he choose _Granger_ over me, she's not even a pureblood or a Slytherin! He was promised to me since we were kids."

"A betrothal agreement?" queried the elder wizard. Pansy nodded.

"One that her father broke after it was revealed that Draco was no longer a supporter of the Dark Lord," Severus interjected. "He severed the agreement, young lady, releasing any claim you might have thought you had on him. But instead of leaving things alone, you refused to accept it, and pursued my son relentlessly, even when he had made it clear to you that he no longer welcomed your attentions."

"Because he was getting it on with that frizzy-haired bitch!" spat Pansy angrily.

"Parkinson!" Snape snarled. "You will restrain that foul mouth of yours immediately or I shall do it for you!"

"And is that reason enough for you to hurt Draco so badly, young lady?" Albus demanded and there was not a trace of pity in his face. He looked very much like a judge from medieval days, stern and inflexible. "You might have caused him irreparable damage had the curse not been removed when it was. He might have been unable to have children or something worse. You say you loved him? Then how could you bear to see him in so much pain, child?"

"He hurt me too!" Pansy sniffled.

"Two wrongs do not make a right, Miss Parkinson," Severus snapped. "Or were you absent when your teacher taught that in primary school? I think you do not realize just how much you harmed my son with your little bit of revenge. Perhaps you would sing a different tune were you to _see_ just how that spell affected Draco."

"What do you mean?"

"Headmaster, may I borrow your Pensieve?"

"Of course, Severus." Dumbledore gestured and the stone bowl flew out of the cabinet behind his desk and landed in front of the pair with a thump.

Severus placed his wand to his temple and withdrew all his memories of watching his son writhing in agony under that curse and placed them inside the stone bowl. Then he lowered his wand and said coldly, "Part of your punishment, Parkinson, is to view these memories of Draco I have placed here. Then maybe you will not be so quick to use dark magic next time." He stabbed his wand down at the swirling surface of silvery liquid. "Look!"

Pansy shook her head. "No!"

Severus's hand tightened like a vise. "Either you look of your own free will, Parkinson, or I shall make you do so, and I don't particularly care if I drown you doing it."

"Severus!" Albus protested. "There is no need to scare the child to death."

"No? I shall not have another Bellatrix LeStrange in my House, Headmaster!"

"View the memories, child," Albus urged, a bit more gently than his Potions professor. "Sometimes the consequences of one's actions are not always apparent unless seen through another's eyes."

Gulping, Pansy lowered her head and stuck her face into the Pensieve.

Severus remained standing over her, the look on his face could have slain a demon, it was so lethal. "Albus, you had better do more than assign her detention with Filch for this, or I swear I shall resign. I will not tolerate attacks upon my children, for whatever reason. This is one place they should be safe, and yet I find they are in as much danger here as if they attended a Death Eater meeting." He scowled blackly. "Ask her where she got the book, for such a volume is often passed down from mother to daughter, especially in pureblood families. I want it destroyed and her parents informed of her actions, and none of your pussyfooting about either. I want you to tell them _exactly_ what she did to Draco and tell them she is facing expulsion for using dark magic."

"Very well, Severus." Albus agreed without argument. "She will not be let off lightly, my friend. She shall be put on probation and face a board of inquiry and I shall take her wand away for the duration of the term. Do you wish to hold detention with her or shall I assign her to another professor?"

"Much as I detest her, I shall be happy to give her very pointed object lessons, though I also think she should serve some detentions with Professor Binns as well. You know he could drive a pixie insane with his droning and his detentions are always writing on some inanely uninteresting topic with no less than five feet of parchment. She should also be made to apologize to Draco."

"I agree. I hope viewing your memories helps her to see that she was wrong and such behavior is unacceptable." The Headmaster said gravely.

Before Severus could speak further, Pansy jerked up from the Pensieve. Her face was ghost white and she was crying yet again.

"Well? Do you understand better now what you have done with your meddling?" Albus demanded sternly.

Pansy nodded. "Yes, sir. I am sorry!"

"Too little, too late," Severus interjected.

"W-What will you do to me?"

"First I shall question you as to where you got this book, Miss Parkinson."

Pansy bit her lip and did not reply.

"Were you given it? From a family member perhaps?" Dumbledore pried.

Reluctantly, Pansy nodded.

"This is a book of mostly dark spells, child, and not ones you should ever be using. Such spells are anathema to any good wizard, and the use of even one means you shall face a board of inquiry for it. After which, the book shall be destroyed. You shall be on probation as well and your wand will be handed to me, since you have proven incapable of governing your actions wisely with it. I shall also be writing to your parents to inform them of what has occurred."

At that, Pansy practically threw herself at Dumbledore's feet. "No . . .no . . .don't tell them . . .please, sir! Father forbid me to see Draco and if he ever finds out I disobeyed him . . ." she trailed off into hysterical sobs.

Severus sneered and Albus remained coolly inflexible. "In such cases, your parent or guardian is always made aware of your actions. Always. There are no exceptions. In addition, you shall serve detention with Professor Snape and Professor Binns till the end of term and you are forbidden all trips to Hogsmeade and required to be in your dorm by eight o'clock every night, a Monitoring Charm shall be placed upon you to ensure you comply with these terms, Miss Parkinson."

"You _can't_ do that! You're treating me like . . .like a _criminal_!" she wailed.

"Indeed. For that is what you are, young lady." The Headmaster said sternly.

"That's no fair! I said I was sorry!"

"But are you really?" Dumbledore snapped, out of patience with the whining. "I get the feeling that you are not truly remorseful, only sorry you were caught. If the board declares you guilty, you shall be expelled, as an example to any other witch who attempts to use such spells upon a former boyfriend. Until then, Miss Parkinson, you are under house arrest." He held out his hand. "Your wand."

She surrendered it, a gleam of hatred blooming in her squinty eyes. "I hate this school! I wish I had never come here!"

"We agree on something then," Snape remarked sourly. "You have detention with me every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday night, six o'clock sharp. On the weekends you shall serve detention with Professor Binns for half the day, the other half shall be spent scrubbing the Hospital Wing and the Slytherin common room from top to bottom." He pointed his wand at her and cast the Monitoring Charm.

A huge pocket watch with a large mouth appeared upon the front of her robes and it looked quite ugly and garish.

"Do not even try and remove that. It will remain until your hearing. If you are late, the charm will react most embarrassingly and loudly. And will continue to do so until you are where you are supposed to be."

"I feel like I'm in prison."

"Then you don't know what prison really feels like. Pray you never find out!" warned the Potions Master. "Remember, girl, you brought this upon yourself."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh and furthermore, you will also apologize to Draco," Severus told her, then added in an inspired stroke of genius, "In front of the entire Slytherin House."

"But . . .but . . .sir! Then everyone will know . . .!"

"Yes, Miss Parkinson. That is the idea." Severus said, a nasty sneer upon his face. Then he leaned down and hissed in her ear, "Nobody hurts my family and gets away with it! No one! Return to your dorm, I shall summon you when it is time for your detention, and you can apologize to my son the following morning, before we assemble in the hall for breakfast. Now get out of my sight."

Pansy fled, slamming the door behind her.

Severus turned to Dumbledore and said softly, "It is well that you abolished the use of a cane on students when you became Headmaster, Albus. Otherwise I would be hard pressed not to beat her senseless."

"As would I," replied the other wizard. Then he offered Severus a lemon drop.

"Do they contain a Calming Draught, Albus?" inquired the professor wearily.

Albus tapped one with his wand. "Now they do." He held it out to Severus, his face innocent as a newborn lamb's, but his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Indulge yourself, my boy."

"What the hell," muttered Snape, and accepted the Headmaster's offering.

And that caused all of the portraits in the office to gossip endlessly for a week, telling all the other portraits in the school, who then told everyone else, until Severus threatened to hex them all into silence when he returned to the office the following Friday.

* * * * * *

Harry also happened to be present for Pansy's required apology, since he had gone down to his father's quarters to ask a question about a potions project due on Monday, he was working with Blaise, and Severus took him along to witness the girl's punishment. He suspected that Harry and Hermione and possibly Ron were involved in playing some pranks upon Pansy, but he did not inquire outright about it. Sometimes it was best to turn a blind eye, and so long as the pranks did not cross the line, he was willing to overlook them, considering the circumstances.

Harry was happy to witness the humbling of the Slytherin witch, and watched with a certain sense of satisfaction as Pansy admitted to Draco, who had just been released from bed rest, that she had cast the awful hex and then apologized to him for doing so.

Draco looked Pansy right in the eye, actually he had to look down on her since he topped her by a head, and after she had said her piece, he replied, "You're a wicked nasty thing and I thank God that contract was broken, otherwise I'd have been stuck with you for the rest of my life, which wouldn't have been too long given you're nothing but a black widow in human form. Come near me again and I'll hex you all the way across the ocean, Parkinson." He gave her a glare that would have done his foster father proud. Then he said coldly, "Apology accepted, now stay the hell away from me."

The rest of Slytherin House was gathered in the common room to hear it too, and they were _not _amused.

Especially the girls.

Draco was very popular with his House, even after he had repudiated his parents, even some of the Death Eater children respected him for such a bold move, and it had been quite a shock to discover he had been the victim of a curse of such malicious magnitude. Most of the Slytherin witches considered him quite a catch and were furious that he had been attacked by one of their own.

Unknown to their Head of House, they decided to enact their own form of reprisal upon their erring Housemate the following night, when the professor was absent from the dungeons attending a required staff meeting upstairs. Led by Millicent Bulstrode, they bound Pansy with strips of cloth and put a hood over her head, then frog-marched her into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and proceeded to hold a "Casting Out" ceremony—a very ancient ritual that witches had practiced since before the time of Merlin, before Hogwarts had been founded. Every witch of a pureblood family knew of the ceremony, and it was only used when a dire crime had been committed.

Since Severus's speech at the beginning of the term, most of the witches had been making a concentrated effort to better themselves and redefine their reputation, and they were furious that all their efforts might have been destroyed due to one selfish spoiled girl. So they determined to add their own punishment to those their Head had already given.

Hermione had been returning from the library when the crowd of Slytherins, shepherding the bound Pansy went by, and Millicent turned and spotted her. "Hey, Granger! Come join us!"

"What? What are you doing?"

"Administering justice to the hag who hexed your boyfriend," she answered.

Curious, Hermione followed.

They dragged Pansy into the middle of a chalk drawn circle, she was whining and sobbing, until Millicent cuffed her round the head and told her to shut her trap. Then Millicent and four other girls called upon all five elements to bear witness against the delinquent witch, Pansy Parkinson.

"She has betrayed the oath of her House, to never do harm to one of its members," Millicent declared in ringing tones, after having first cast a Silencing Charm about the bathroom.

" She has betrayed the sisterhood, by using spells of compulsion to force a boy to her bidding!" cried another witch. "We need not such measures in order to get a man to see us."

"She has dishonored us by lying and ruining our new reputation as Salazar's daughters!" yelled Avery Blake.

"I declare her oathbreaker and see her not! She is outcast from our company! Traitor! Liar! Get thee hence, woman!" chanted the rest of the girls.

They ripped the hood from Pansy's face and spit at her feet, one by one, all of them reciting the same words over and over. "Outcast! Get thee hence, woman!"

More than a few of them also sent Stinging Hexes at her as well and when Hermione's turn came to confront her, she glared at the other girl and then slapped her across the face hard. "That's for Draco, you evil hag! Get thee hence, bitch!"

After each witch had declared Pansy outcast, Millicent closed the circle, then freed Pansy from the bindings and said coldly, "You are Slytherin now in name only."

They left Pansy alone in the haunted bathroom then, sobbing, only to have Moaning Myrtle make a toilet explode right in her face. Even the ghost girl had no sympathy for her.

* * * * * *

Hermione ran into Draco, Harry, and Ron, returning from the kitchens, they had managed to persuade the house elves to give them a snack, for all of them found themselves starving at odd times now. They were shadowed by an unseen Smidgen, who had feasted upon honey and milk. "Hey. What are you doing out of the library at this time of night?" Draco greeted jokingly. "You're finished studying already?"

She smiled at him, where normally a comment like that from Ron or Harry would have made her bristle. "Mostly. I ran into some of your Slytherins on the way," she began, then beckoned them off into an alcove. She then told them what they had done to Pansy. "I suppose it was rather . . .mean of us, but . . .she really deserved it after that hex she cast on you, Draco."

Draco grimaced and Ron and Harry winced in sympathy. "Don't lose sleep over it, Mione. I'm not. Slytherins take care of their own. Always have."

"I still can't believe she did . . ._that_ to you, Malfoy," Ron said, shivering. "That's just so . . .wrong."

"And evil," Harry added.

"I should have expected it," Draco sighed. "I mean, I've known her practically my whole life and she's always been a spoilt brat and jealous of anyone who has something she didn't. Plus, her parents are hard core supporters of You-Know-Who, so of course she would know some dark spells." He shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "We're taught them right along with proper etiquette."

"Then you know dark magic?" Ron asked before he could think better of it.

Harry elbowed him in the ribs.

"Yeah. But I promised myself and my dad I'd never use them. And I haven't. I only learned them 'cause Lucius made me. I'm no dark wizard."

"Nobody said you were, Draco," Hermione soothed, putting an arm about him and hugging him. "I'm so glad you're okay. I was really scared, you know?" Sudden tears sparkled upon her lashes as she gazed up at him.

Draco hugged her tight. "Shh. Don't cry, little bookworm. It takes more than a jealous bitch to keep me down."

Hermione smiled through her tears. "Sorry. I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?"

"A little."

"Don't ever scare me like that again, Draco Michael Malfoy!" she ordered, pretending to be angry with him.

"I won't," he whispered, and then he kissed her softly.

"Okay, I'm outta here," Ron said. "Watching people snoggong makes me want to puke. Especially when it's one of my best friends making out with my other best friend's brother."

"See you later," Harry said quickly, turning and walking back up to Gryffindor Tower with Ron, giving the couple some privacy.

"Hey, mate. Want to play some chess?"

Harry shook his head. "I need to find Katie. We need to go over some potions together."

"Oh, right. I've heard _that_ one before." Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry, you need help. Mental help, I mean."

"Why?"

"Because you and Malfoy have girls on the brain, seriously!"

Harry grinned. "So? Maybe you should go out with someone, Ron. Then you wouldn't feel left out."

"No thanks. Girls are nothing but trouble," Ron said. "Chess is safer."

"Whatever, mate," Harry shrugged, then took the stairs two at a time.

He found Katie studying at a table near the fireplace, and she greeted him warmly and agreed to study potions with him in the library, and if they managed to steal a few kisses inbetween memorizing formulas, no one cared.

* * * * * *

Pansy's parents were most displeased at their daughter's continued infatuation with the most unsuitable Draco Malfoy, ward of Severus Snape. They promptly sent their disobedient daughter a Howler to that effect, and threatened to disinherit her if she continued to show such unseemly interest in him. Not one word was spoken about the black book of spells, which Dumbledore had locked away in a cabinet, but Mr. Parkinson had spoken privately to the Headmaster and requested that the hearing be suspended, since it was only a first-time offense. Dumbledore refused, saying that such was Ministry policy and he could not circumvent that.

"You'd do it quick enough if Snape or one of your other lackeys asked it of you," Parkinson blustered. "It's partly his fault for not watching out for my girl. I'll bet that Malfoy boy led her down the garden path."

"Mr. Parkinson, I assure you, Draco did nothing of the sort. He was the injured party in this, not your daughter, might I remind you?" Dumbledore said sharply. "I am sorry, but I cannot bend the rules for anyone not on a matter of dark magic. Your daughter will have to go before a board of inquiry the same as any other practitioner of dark magic. And if she is found guilty, her wand will be snapped and she will be expelled."

"Just like that."

"Just like that." The Headmaster agreed.

"She told me she's practically under house arrest, between you confiscating her wand and Snape and that other bugger giving her detention every night," Parkinson spat. "Hypocrites, all of you! Snape was a Death Eater once upon a time and I don't see you takin' his wand away."

"Severus was never a Death Eater, sir. He was always my agent, working undercover," Dumbledore said, his eyes flashing dangerously. "He never hexed an innocent boy out of jealousy, using a spell that could have castrated him magically."

Parkinson went pale. "Merlin's bloody shorts! I . . .never knew _that_ was what she used . . ."

"Now you do."

"I'm sure it was a mistake." Parkinson backtracked, but he sounded lame even to his own ears. That curse was one of the worst in a witch's arsenal, and every man feared it. "Look, I'll make a deal with you, Dumbledore. You call off the hearing and I'll take my kid outta here and enroll her in some other academy on the continent. Beauxbatons Academy in France, Madame Alexandria's School for Sorceresses in Moscow, just spare me the humiliation of having my name splashed all over the front page. My business will suffer if people think my daughter's a _strega mala_, know what I mean?"

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "I cannot suspend the hearing, it is out of my hands. But if you wish to withdraw your daughter from this institution, by all means go ahead. That is your prerogative, Mr. Parkinson. As is the penalty if you fail to show up for your appointed court date."

"Let the Aurors come for me," Parkinson sneered. "By the time they do, we'll be long gone. Tell Pansy to pack her bags, Dumbledore. You can take your fancy arse school and shove it, far as I'm concerned. Oh, and give a message to Snape while you're at it. Tell him the next time I see either of his sons or him, they'd better look out, because I'll have their balls for breakfast. Good day, Headmaster!"

And with that, Jarvis Parkinson took the Floo back to his estate in Somerset. Dumbledore summoned Pansy to his office soon after and informed her of her father's decision. She did not seem to care one way or the other, and so it was that the next day Pansy Parkinson departed Hogwarts forever.

* * * * * *

Things grew rather quiet after that, and classes continued and so did Quidditch practice, where Harry finally got his head together and managed to stop looking at Katie and focus on the Snitch. Gryffindor played Hufflepuff for the first match of the season, and Harry and Katie both played brilliantly, and Gryffindor won. Harry and Katie and the rest of the team went out for butterbeers at Hogsmeade afterwards, visiting the Hogs Head. Some of the older players managed to get hold of a bottle of firewhiskey, and offered Harry some, but Harry refused, recalling that long ago night at Prince Manor when he had drank summerdew and gotten sick as a dog the morning after.

Plus, he knew that with his history, he shouldn't touch alcohol, and so he wisely declined. So did Katie, who said they didn't need alcohol to have a good time. They left when it appeared half the team was going to spend the night on the barroom floor, flying back to the castle leisurely.

They flew so closely that Harry reached out and grabbed Katie's hand.

"Hey! What are you doing?" she gasped, not expecting that.

"Holding your hand," he replied, grinning roguishly. "D'you mind?"

"If I did, you'd be off your broom, hotshot."

"Oh? Then you think you could take me down?"

"I don't think. I know." Her knee bumped his.

He eyed her askance. "You couldn't knock me off if I did this." Then he reached out and pulled her into his arms, so that she was straddling her broom and his at the same time, and then he kissed her.

It was a brief kiss, but no less passionate for all of that, and it left her momentarily breathless.

But only momentarily.

An instant later, she was half-glaring and laughing at him. "Hells bells, Snape! Are you crazy?" She gestured to the way they were sandwiched together. "You're lucky we didn't crash."

"We were far away from the castle," he said sheepishly. "Besides, I've always wondered how it felt to kiss a girl while flying."

"Idiot!" she scolded, giggling. She mock-cuffed him along the ear. "Help me back on my broom, won't you?"

"As my lady commands," he said gallantly, then did so. "By the way, it was wonderful."

She smiled. "I still think you're insane, Snape. But I like to live dangerously, so I guess I can put up with it."

They flew the rest of the way with their hands clasped, parting with a good night kiss in the common room.

Harry crept up the stairs and found Ron still awake, reading a Quidditch handbook.

"Have a good time, Harry?"

"Yeah. It was the best," his friend replied, and got undressed, still grinning like a fool.

* * * * * *

On October 30th, the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons arrived. Durmstrang arrived first, while Harry was in Herbology, gathering gillyweed for an assignment along the shore of the lake along with the rest of his class.

Suddenly, the lake began to froth and bubble like a cauldron about to explode. Girls screamed and boys backed away with wands drawn.

"What the hell's happening?"

"Are we under attack?"

"Why's the lake swirling like that?"

"Is it a sea monster?"

"Professor Sprout! The lake looks like it's about to explode!" cried Terry Boot.

The water spun faster and faster, like a giant whirlpool and then it erupted like a geyser, spraying all the students with water. More shrieks followed the impromptu ducking.

The prow of a huge black ship emerged from the depths, Harry gasped, rubbing his glasses upon his shirt tail and then jamming them back on his head. The ship was vast, built like a cross between a Viking warship and a pirate corsair, and it nearly filled the lake.

"Holy Merlin! Look at the size of it!"

"Where'd it come from?"

"Settle down now, children!" came Professor's Sprout's voice. "Don't panic, it's just the ship from Durmstrang. Igor Karkaroff always did like to make an entrance. Finish up your gathering, you'll be called to the Great Hall soon to meet our new guests."

Never had her students completed an assignment so quickly.

No sooner had they finished and dried themselves off with Drying Charms, then they heard a a loud neigh and Luna Lovegood pointed at the sky and yelled, "Look! It's Abraxans pulling a huge blue carriage. They're beautiful, aren't they?"

Everyone's eyes were drawn upwards, to an enormous carriage that looked as if it could hold ten Hagrids, pulled by giant palomino winged horses.

"Now that's what I call a horse!" exclaimed Seamus Finnegan. "I've never seen any horse so huge. Or so beautiful."

The Abraxans coats were the color of molten gold and their manes and tails a brilliant silvery white, as were their wings.

_I have,_ Harry thought, watching the steeds circle for a landing near Hagrid's hut. _The elvensteeds of the Seelie Court were just as magnificent._ He recalled the gorgeous Moonheart, the sleek silvery white steed that he had ridden in the Deepwood, who had fought so gallantly to save him from the Unseelie that had ambushed them on their first ever hunt in the fae realm. _These horses are beautiful, but I'd take Moonheart over them any day of the week. I doubt if they can match her for brains or for courage._

The carriage landed with a thump that caused Hagrid's chimney to shake, and a large woman dressed in fancy peacock blue robes stepped out of the carriage.

Ron's eyes went wide. "Blimey! She's near the size of Hagrid! That's one _big_ woman!"

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. "Hush, Ronald! She'll hear you."

"Oops!" Ron gulped and shut his mouth.

Hagrid was shaking the large woman's hand enthusiastically. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Madam Maxine. Name's Hagrid, I'm the gamekeeper."

" 'ello 'Agrid!" she boomed, kissing him on both cheeks. The big man blushed and the students tittered. "Pleeze take my 'orses and give them a good rubdown and some single malt whiskey. They only drink the finest."

"No problem, Madam! I'll see that they get the best care. Beautiful animals, Abraxans!"

Hagrid looked pleased as punch as he helped the tall witch unhitch the winged horses, whose names were Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and d'Artagnan.

Glancing back at the ship bobbing gently upon the lake, Harry saw a long gangplank being extended down the side of the ship and onto the shore. A tall bearded man wearing a large Russian style beaver hat and a black greatcoat with fur about the collar and carrying a long black walking stick came marching down the gangplank, followed by several tall young men swathed in long fur coats of marten, mink, and beaver.

Before Harry could finish looking, Professor Sprout was tugging on his sleeve and saying, "Time for you to go into the hall, Mr. Snape. The Headmaster wishes for the whole school to welcome our guests there and the Goblet of Fire will also be put on display too, for the Tournament is now officially begun with the arrival of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons!"

Harry allowed himself to be shepherded indoors, joining Katie, Ron, and Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

He caught Draco's eye across the hall, and his brother gave him a half-smile.

Sliding onto the bench next to Katie, Harry looked towards the staff table and saw Severus sitting in his usual spot, next to Moody and MCGonagall. Dumbledore was standing up on the podium, beaming like a jack-o-lantern. The hall was filled with twinkling lights and festive paper lanterns across the ceiling. The Goblet of Fire-or as the fae called it, the Cup of Wonders—was on a platform just to the side of the podium, glittering with otherworldly splendor.

The doors opened and Igor Karkaroff strode in, strutting like a bantam rooster.

Harry noted that his father frowned when he saw the other wizard and wondered why Severus would dislike someone he had never met. Little did he know that soon his father would have more than that to frown over. Much more.

**Well, there you go, a nice long chapter for you! Did you like what Severus and Dumbledore decided?**

**Sorry there wasn't any Phil and Smidgen in this one--they'll be in the next one!**

**Review and let me know how you liked this one please!**

**A Golden Snitch to the first one to review this chapter!**

**Next: Phil explains to Harry and Draco about the Cup of Wonders and the drawing of names takes place.**


	12. Cup of Wonders

**Cup of Wonders**

Harry craned his neck to see past Cormac McLaggen's head as the students from Durmstrang entered the hall behind their teacher. Most were muffled in heavy sealskin or mink robes that came down to their feet, making Harry think they must come from the Far North where it snowed year round. He wondered if being in a warm climate would be a shock to them. A tall boy with a shock of dark hair and a serious face who walked directly to the left of Karkaroff looked oddly familiar to Harry.

Suddenly, Ron elbowed him in the ribs. "Harry! Bloody hell, look—it's _Krum_!" He pointed to the boy marching right behind Karkaroff.

Now Harry took another look and this time he recognized the professional Seeker who played internationally on Bulgaria's Quidditch team. He had not known that Krum attended Durmstrang.

Next to him, Ron was practically asphyxiating with excitement. "Can you _believe_—it's like the most wicked thing ever—Krum here at _Hogwarts_! He's like the best Seeker ever, they say he makes loads of money on and off the pitch and now he's going to compete in the tournament. D'you think he'll give me his autograph, Harry? Do you?"

"I suppose." Harry said offhandedly, his attention was suddenly drawn to the Slytherin table, where Draco was glaring daggers at Krum. _Huh? What's up with that? I would have thought Draco would be over the moon like Ron to see a famous Quidditch player here._ But then he tracked where Krum was smiling and waving at and saw to his astonishment that the older boy was looking right at Hermione. Hermione, who knew nothing about Quidditch and had never cared to, gave him a friendly smile back, then turned to ask Lavender a question. _Uh oh. Krum better watch it, because Draco won't tolerate a rival for Hermione's affections._

Karkaroff marched right up to the staff table and then turned and arrayed his students, there were twelve of them, on the lefthand side. He gave a cordial nod to Dumbledore and gave an unfriendly leer to Snape, who returned the favor in spades.

Harry's next glance took in Smidgen hovering up near the ceiling and Phil leaning against a window in the corner, looking impossibly relaxed, his arms crossed and one long booted leg crossed at the ankle. He winked at Harry before summoning his veils to cover him once more. Harry winked back and felt immediately more at ease knowing that all three of his guardians were in the hall.

Whispered exclamations flew about the room as more people noticed that Krum was standing there, but then Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, "Welcome, Headmaster Karkaroff and students of Durmstrang to Hogwarts!"

A round of applause followed and several die hard Quidditch fanatics began to pump their arms up and down and chant,"KRUM! KRUM!" until their prefects hushed them.

Then the doors opened once more to admit Madame Maxine and her girls from Beauxbatons. Whistles of appreciation from several boys and gasps followed their entrance. Everyone's eyes were glued to Madam Maxine, who towered over everyone in the hall save for Hagrid. She was regal and imposing, however, though Draco did hear one rude firstie remark, "Blimey, she's as big as Hagrid! Wonder if she's his sister or something?"

"Quiet, Simmons!" Draco hissed, glaring at the smaller boy, who gulped and hushed.

The girls from Baeuxbatons, especially one tall willowy specimen with long blond hair, were quite pretty, Draco thought. But still, none of them could hold a candle to his Hermione, who while she might not be _Witch-O-Rama_ material, still made his blood sing. She had both brains and a refreshingly natural beauty that Draco appreciated immensely. And she was unfailingly kind and honest as well, qualities which he also liked. _She'll defend me to the death and still be able to tell me when I'm being an insufferable ass. I need that in a girl._ He glanced over at the Gryffindor Table and caught her eye and smiled. To his delight, she gave him a huge smile right back. He had gotten worried and jealous when Krum had started eyeing her, but apparently Hermione still preferred him, even if he wasn't some hotshot international Seeker.

When the ladies from Beauxbatons had arranged themselves upon the right hand side of Dumbledore's podium, Dumbledore welcomed them as well and then announced cheerily, "As you all know, Hogwarts is proud to host the Triwizard Tournament for the first time in a century. Would you all please welcome the judges and officials of this tournament, Mr. Ludo Bagman, Director of Magical Games and Sports," Here a large man stood up and everyone applauded politely, he was dressed in maroon and gold robes. "And Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Senior, Director of International Cooperation of Magical Affairs." Here a thin man with a severe looking face sporting a thin mustache stood up, he was wearing deep blue robes and a pinstriped suit stood up. The applause was more restrained this time, Snape eyed Crouch and smiled thinly, he was another old acquaintance.

Phil, observing everything unseen, kept an eye upon the staff table, he still had his suspiscions about Moody, and was quick to note that Moody looked at Crouch with an expression of utter hatred upon his face before glancing away. _Odd. What history does an ex-Auror and a Ministry official share that causes such enmity?_ Phil wondered. This needed to be looked into. He would ask Severus what he knew later.

But his attention quickly snapped back to the center of the room as Dumbledore announced that with the arrival of the participating schools, the tournament would officially begin. He gestured and the Goblet of Fire suddenly flared up and blue flames slowly danced and revolved about inside it.

"All those who wish to participate in the tournament must be of legal age, seventeen, as of right now, and in good health and of sound mind. The Triwizard Tournament is not for the faint of heart, as its name suggests, three champions, one from each school will be chosen by the Goblet of Fire, and they shall compete by completing three tasks, each one more difficult than the last. The champions will be graded by a panel of judges, one of which shall be myself, the others being Mr. Crouch, Mr. Bagman, and Professors McGonagall and Snape. Failure to complete any task in the time named will result in disqualification. The winner of the tournament will be awarded 2000 Galleons and the Triwizard Cup."

Students began clapping and cheering at that announcement.

Dumbledore stepped down and drew an Age Line about the glittering Goblet. "Any student who wishes to participate, must simply write down their name and school on a piece of parchment and place it in the Goblet. You have a week to decide and no student not of age will be able to participate in the tournament, hence the Age Line I have drawn. Think carefully, for once you have placed your name in the Goblet, it cannot be withdrawn. Good luck to all of you! May Fortune favor you." He gestured and a large table popped up and he gestured for the newcomers to be seated at it. "Please welcome our guests and make their time here a pleasant one. They will be staying until the conclusion of the Tournament. And now, let us eat!"

At that, a scrumptious array of food appeared upon all the tables and everyone began eating.

Harry looked around the table and noticed that several seventh-years were debating whether or not to enter the tournament. He silently wished them luck, glad that he would not be the center of attention for risking his neck for once. He was also surprised that his father was going to be on the panel of judges, Severus hadn't mentioned that to him.

Ron nudged him. "You want to try and meet Krum after dinner, Harry?"

"Sure, Ron. And maybe some of the girls from Beauxbatons too."

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, they've got some real lookers there. That tall blond and then I saw a really sweet girl with dark hair cut short, she smiled at me when she went past, I think. I wouldn't mind getting to know her better." He sighed dreamily. "Too bad Fred and George can't compete, but they won't be seventeen till April. And why didn't you tell me your dad was judging?"

"Because I had no idea. He never mentioned it to me. Maybe he forgot, what with all the trouble with Draco and Pansy going on."

"Could be, but I don't ever recall Snape—I mean Professor Snape—being absentminded," Ron said. He looked over at the Gryffindors seated down the table and said loudly, "So, which of you are going to compete?"

"I will!" Alicia Spinnet declared. "I just turned seventeen last week."

"Me too," said Nigel Weatherby.

Nearly all of the seventh-years and some sixth-years who had turned seventeen early were going to put their names in.

While they all discussed previous Triwizard Tournaments and who won them, Harry concentrated on eating, knowing that if Severus weren't watching him, then Smidgen or Phil was and all of them insisted he eat healthy.

He took some salad and bread and some chicken Francais and a helping of spetzel as well. Clearly the house elves wanted to introduce some new cuisine today in honor of their international guests. Across the table, Katie served herself some red cabbage and kielbasa and grinned at him over the bowl of mashed potatoes.

"You have lessons with my father again this afternoon, Katie?" Harry asked, saluting her playfully with his goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Yes. Why? Do you want to be my assistant again?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Cormac butted in with a laugh and drawled, "_I'll_ be your assistant, sweet thing. I know some really good potions, better even than Snape there."

Harry flushed red and understood perfectly Draco's death glare from moments before. He tossed the older boy a furious look, but Katie just looked Cormac up and down and said, "Sorry, Cormac, but the professor only lets dedicated students into his advanced tutorials and you only got an A on your OWLS, didn't you?"

Cormac blushed. "So what? Nothin' wrong with that. Bloody damn perfectionist, Snape is! Nobody can meet his standards."

"I have," Katie said simply. "And so has Harry." She turned back to Harry. "Two o'clock, okay?"

"Fine," Harry agreed and let the pangs of jealousy slip away. Clearly, Katie did not fancy Cormac, a fact for which he was very grateful. He did not think he would have been able to compete with the handsome older boy's charm and money and dazzling smile. Then he returned to eating, not wanting his lunch to get cold.

* * * * * *

After class, Harry made his way down to the dungeons, whistling a tune he had heard upon the WWN called "She Borrowed My Broomstick" a whimsical lighthearted love song that reminded him of Katie and the night they had kissed while flying through the air. A few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs coming out of potions gave him strange looks and some of them muttered that he must be turning into his father's clone, with the way he spent so many hours here now.

"Snape and Snape Junior," muttered Ravenclaw Will Merriweather derogatorily. "Might as well take off that Gryffindor patch and just wear black robes and a sneer, like his dear old dad."

At that, Harry stopped whistling and whirled about to give the other boy a glower. "What's that supposed to mean? If I happen to like potions more than I used to, what's it to you? And quit talking like that about my father, Merriweather."

"Or else what? You'll tell him to give me detention?" laughed the older boy. "Oh, Daddy, Merriweather was being mean to me, you need to give him detention . . .boo hoo!"

"Shut it, Merriweather! You're pathetic!" snapped Harry, feeling his temper start to simmer.

"Make me, why don't you—little Snape? Daddy's pet!"

Before Harry could say anything else, Cedric Diggory stepped between them. "All right, you two, that's enough. Everyone calm down. Merriweather, quit needling Snape. And Snape, ignore Merriweather, he's just upset because your dad failed him for today's lesson 'cause he was showing off instead of brewing."

"Mind your own business, Diggory!" snapped the Ravenclaw.

"Keeping the peace _is_ a prefect's business, Merriweather," Cedric returned calmly, indicating his badge. "Go on now, Snape. You know your father hates to be kept waiting."

Harry continued on his way then, giving Cedric a smile and thanking him. He hadn't realized that being a professor's son would make some people jealous of him or prone to take out their anger on him for things his father had said or done to them.

_Don't let idiots like that get to you, Harry. You're going to get to brew again with Katie and have a good time, like usual._

Trying to regain his former cheerfulness, he began to whistle again and then he reached the lab and opened it.

Katie was already there, setting up her apparatus. She had her dark hair pulled up in a neat bun at the back of her head, Harry noted that she usually wore her long hair that way when she was brewing or playing Quidditch. "Hi, Harry." She greeted, smiling at him.

Severus swept in from his office, a sheaf of papers in one hand. "You're late, Mr. Snape. Start brewing on cauldron four, I've set up your ingredients for you. Your instructions are on the board to the left of Miss Bell's. Make sure you read the right ones."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, an annoyed note creeping into his voice. "I _can_ read, you know. I learned a long time ago."

Severus shot him a dark look. "None of your cheek, boy. Get started, I don't have an afternoon to waste dawdling." Then he went back into his office.

Harry glared after him. "What bug bit him?" he muttered. "I'm what, five minutes late, and he acts like I'm half-an-hour or something."

"Don't mind him, Harry. He had the class from hell this afternoon, I think. Seventh year NEWTS, but all they wanted to do was discuss the tournament and several of them nearly exploded their cauldrons and wasted expensive ingredients. And he gave one Ravenclaw a zero and another detention for totally ignoring him and discussing the tournament instead of their lab."

"How do you know all this, Katie?" Harry asked, for he knew Snape would never discuss such things with a student.

"Simple. I was waiting in his office for the class to get out and I could hear everything that went on," she replied, chopping up some roots expertly. "So he's kind of tetchy, cut him some slack. My dad's the same when something doesn't go right down at the harbor. He snaps and doesn't really mean it."

"Oh. Okay." When she put it that way, he no longer was angry at Severus's attitude. He moved over to his cauldron and read the ingredients on the board, noticing that Severus had written his larger and separated them with a wavy line between them and Katie's.

For fifteen minutes, he brewed in companionable silence, but when he got to the "steep for fifteen minute stage" he allowed himself to gaze longingly at her as she moved about her large cauldron, admiring the sway of her hips and the curve of her bottom and the graceful gesture of her hands as she added another ingredient to her cauldron and stirred.

_Merlin, but she's so beautiful! More beautiful than even that French girl Fleur Delacour. I could stare at her all day . . .all day . . .and how I want to take all the pins or whatever out of her hair and watch it fall down past her . . .uh . . .hips and run my hands through it and hold her tight. _She had the tip of her tongue between her lips and she turned to fetch a jar of beetle carapaces and their eyes met.

"See something you like?" she teased, her voice a throaty rasp that sent shivers down him.

"Yeah, I do," he said boldly.

She grinned and turned around to add the beetles and he watched, mesemerized, and wished he was kissing her right then. He recalled their first kiss and how good she had tasted, like mint and coffee. He was so enraptured by her that he forgot all about his solution until Snape loomed over him, looking most displeased.

"I don't hear any stirring, do you?" Severus reprimanded sharply.

"Huh? Hi, Dad."

"Don't you "hi, Dad" me, young man." Severus growled, pointing to Harry's cauldron. "You should be paying attention to your potion, not gazing over your cauldron making goo-goo eyes at your girlfriend, Mr. Snape. This is advanced potions lab, not daydream class! You can do that on your own time, not mine."

"I . . .I wasn't . . ." Harry blushed furiously. "I just . . .had something in my eye," he removed his glasses and rubbed convincingly.

An instant later, a hand was tilting his head back and examining his eye. A wet cloth was applied gently twice, wiping his eyes, then Severus released him and stepped away. "Finish your brewing, son. Ingredients cost money and my budget won't cover carelessness. Stir that ten times counterclockwise."

Harry did, wishing he could throw himself headfirst into the cauldron and be taken away somewhere, like on those old Calgon commercials he used to see on the telly late at night when he was at the Dursleys. Must his father always embarrass the hell out of him? He wondered resentfully. His ears still burning, he began to stir, slowly and evenly.

A moment later, Severus went to fetch something out of his office, and Harry turned to Katie and grumbled, "Damn perfectionist git!" he drew himself up to his full height, crossed his arms over his chest, and said in a perfect mocking imitation of his father, "I don't hear any stirring, do you?"

Katie couldn't help it. Harry's impersonation was perfect—Severus to the life, down to the scowl. She burst out laughing, after first removing her finished product from the fire.

So did Harry after a moment.

Until he looked up and saw his father standing in the doorway of his office. He had obviously seen the whole thing. Instantly his laughter died and he gulped sharply. _Oh bloody hell, but I am so dead. He looks mad enough to hex me into pieces._

"If I were any other parent, what do you think would happen to you, Harry Albus Snape?" demanded his father frostily, his eyes snapping.

"Umm . . .I'd be getting my arse kicked halfway to China probably. Or six feet under," his son admitted sheepishly. "Sorry, Dad."

"Indeed. You would."

His son dropped his eyes, staring at the dungeon floor. "But . . .imitation's the sincerest form of flattery," he said quietly, hoping to get out of the grave he had dug for himself.

Snape frowned severely. "That was not flattery, that was mockery. I _do_ know the difference. By all rights, I should be giving you detention for your smart mouth at the very least. Your lack of respect for me is appalling."

Now Harry felt completely remorseful and guilty. "I'm really sorry. I acted like a royal idiot. Feel free to kick my arse."

"I would, but I need you to be able to finish your potion," his father scowled, "But if I ever catch you making fun of me that way again, Mr. Snape, rest assured I will kick your backside all the way to Australia, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now finish. . .that . . .Clarifying . . .Draft." Snape ordered, punctuating his words with a few swats to the back of his son's head with a composition book he happened to have in his hand.

Harry winced and rubbed his head ruefully, but said nothing about the chastisement. _Stupid! You really know how to get him steamed, don't you? Katie must think you're the biggest arse since time began._

He dared not look at his girl however, not while he'd just been figuratively reamed out by his father, who was still hovering over him like some black bird of prey. He turned back to his potion, finishing it quickly and competently, the way he should have done in the first place.

Severus watched impassively while Harry decanted and labeled and at last looked up from his task, remorse and regret still visible in the green eyes.

Snape met his son's eyes and thought, _How could I ever have thought he was James's son, even with Glamours? Potter would have been amused at that little imitation, not remorseful that he had hurt my feelings. He would have still been laughing over it in his mind. _But Harry wasn't. Severus could tell he was sorry and guilty without ever resorting to Legilimency. His son had all of his mother's empathy and his father's guilt complex, Severus thought wryly.

Then he turned about to inspect his other student's work, letting his son stew for a few minutes more, letting the lesson sink in. After declaring Katie's Venomous Spider Antidote a success, he returned to put his son out of his misery.

As Harry cleaned up his work station, Severus leaned over and whispered in his ear, "You're forgiven. Just don't do it again."

"I won't." Harry promised. "Thanks, Dad." He smiled tentatively up at the Potions Master, and was rewarded with his father's quiet half-smile and a hand ruffling his hair in return.

"Dismissed, you two. Go take a walk or however you teenagers spend time together these days. You're both too distracted by hormones to brew anything more today." He waved them out of the lab.

"See you Friday, professor. Thank you, sir!" Katie called, then dragged Harry out the door before he could say something else to anger Severus.

Harry waved before allowing his girlfriend to pull him down the hall. He walked in silence for a few minutes, trying unsuccessfully to conquer his shame and embarrassment. At last he halted and said in a soft voice, "I'll bet you think I'm the biggest git ever, making fun of my dad like that after what you told me about his day and all."

"A little. Though I did think it was funny at first. You've got him down to a T, you know." Katie admitted. "Until I saw him standing there, listening, and all of a sudden it wasn't funny anymore."

"I know. It was petty," Harry said, not looking at her. "I was mad 'cause he yelled at me in front of you and I wanted to get back at him, only . . .I'm no good at paybacks. I don't like hurting people like that. I know what it feels like . . .my cousin used to mock me something awful when I lived with my aunt and uncle, before I knew I was Severus's son. I'm such a jerk."

She put an arm around him and tilted his chin up so he was looking into her eyes. "Don't beat yourself up over it, Harry. It's done and over with and he's forgiven you." She waved a finger mock-scoldingly under his nose. "Just don't do it again."

"I won't. Promise." He laughed, then caught her hand.

"You know, Harry, he really loves you."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he could have kicked your arse or grounded you or whatever and he didn't." Katie said knowingly. "He's a good dad, you're lucky, Harry."

"I know that, believe me. I don't know why I acted like an idiot today."

She kissed him gently. "You're entitled to act like an idiot once in awhile, Mr. Snape. Like every other human being." The kiss deepened.

"Hey, little brother, get a room!" Draco called.

Harry pulled away, scowling at Draco. "What are you, the relationship police? Go and find Hermione and snog her, why don't you?"

"Good idea. I'll do that after I finish talking to Dad." Draco laughed. Then he added over his shoulder, "Got any Contraceptix, Harry?"

"Bite me, Draco," Harry yelled back, then turned to Katie and said, "C'mon, let's fly away from here, Katie-did. Too many damn people poking their noses in our business."

"Okay." She laughed and they raced up the hallway. "Katie-did?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Uh . . .yeah. I thought it was kind of . . .cute. Unless you think it's lame?"

She shook her head. "No, I like it. So long as you're the one using it. Do you give nicknames to all your girlfriends then, Harry?"

He shook his head. "No. You're the first. Guess I get that from my dad. He has nicknames for me and Draco."

"Really? Like what?"

"Promise you won't laugh? Or tell anyone?"

"I promise. Witch's honor." She said solemnly.

"All right. He calls Draco "Dragon" and me "Phoenix"."

"I can see why. Aww! That's so sweet."

"Just don't ever let Draco or Dad know I told you. They'd kill me."

"Can't have that, Harry." She grinned, then sprinted up the stairs and out of the castle.

Smirking, Harry chased after, ignoring Peeves singing off-key, "_Oooh, Katie Bell's playing hard to get! Catch her little Snape! Snapey junior lo-o-ves sweet Bell! Bell's the belle of Snapey's eye! Bell and Snapey sitting in a tree—K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"_

"Put a sock in it, Peeves!" Harry shouted, pushing the door to the castle open with a shoulder and following his beloved Chaser down to the lake.

* * * * * *

All that next week, the school was filled with rumors about who was going to be the new Hogwarts champion. Daily, students from all the Houses who were seventeen placed their names in the Goblet, cheered on by friends and Housemates. Alicia Spinnet did so, as did Cedric Diggory, and Stan Seventrees, a Ravenclaw. Andrew Santos, a Slytherin, tossed his in after much ribbing from his friends.

Several students who were almost seventeen tried and failed to cross the Age Line Dumbledore had set up in various ways. One and all failed. One of the more spectacular failures was engineered by Fred and George Weasley. They brewed an Aging potion that would age them only a few months, and then they walked up to Age Line and stepped across . . .

They immediately were serenaded by cheering from the students watching, and were just about to put their names in the Goblet when they were thrown violently out of the circle and across the hall. When they picked themselves up, they discovered, much to their chagrin, that they were aged to almost a hundred, and had long beards and creaking arthritic joints like old men.

Their appearance elicited hysterical laughter from the students, especially Ron. Hermione just shook her head. "Boys! Did they really think they could get past a ward Dumbledore had set?"

"They had to try," Katie snickered. "They're boys. They only learn by experience."

"Tell me about it," the other girl snorted.

The laughter died when Snape appeared in the doorway and caught sight of the twins. He bit back a groan. "Why am I not surprised? Gentlemen, it appears you've been had by a master. Next time don't be so quick to try and circumvent the system, the rule exists to keep you safe. Come along, you two. It's the Hospital Wing for a few days at least. The rest of you, find something to do that's productive! Go!"

Limping and groaning, the twins followed him, muttering, "Merlin! Getting old sucks!"

The rest of the students split up after that, they were not foolish to disregard Snape's dictates, for though the Potions Master was a lot more relaxed than he used to be, he was still stern and snarky and wouldn't hesitate to give detention to anyone not obeying a direct order.

Ron chuckled and said, "Ah well, they gave it a good try though," before following Draco, Hermione, Harry, and Katie.

The only one watching who was not amused was Smidgen, who hissed, _:Sacrilege! Using the Sacred Cup as a mere . . .what do humans call it . . .a lottery ball? Yes, that is it. Over a thousand years since the Cup was stolen from us and this is how you wizards treat it?:_

Harry winced, for he had never heard the shimmerling sound so insulted and angry before. But she blinked away before he could question her, and Harry resolved to speak to her about it later on in the evening, when they were all gathered in Snape's quarters after dinner, as was their wont now. Severus even allowed Ron, Hermione and Katie to come there and study or read or play chess, reasoning that that way he could keep an eye on both his sons and make sure they weren't getting in trouble and were safe from those who had grudges against them.

Severus usually had a house elf serve them tea and cakes and retreated to his study while the teenagers gathered in the living area, giving them privacy without being too obvious about it. They were careful to not abuse the professor's hospitality, and always made sure everything was neat and clean before departing.

* * * * * *

_Later that night:_

" . . .so I was going to ask her what was wrong, but she vanished before I could and I haven't seen her since," Harry told Draco, they were sitting on Snape's couch, munching on a bowl of snack mix. "Have you?"

Draco shook his head no. "Not a flicker. Don't worry. She's probably gone invisible or something and is watching the Cup from afar. What's the story behind the Cup anyway?"

"Darned if I know," Harry said. "I was hoping I could talk to Smidgen and find out more."

"Who else would know?" Draco mused. "Maybe Dad?"

"Yes?" asked Severus, coming into the den just at that moment.

His sons looked up at him. "Dad, do you know anything about the Cup of Wonders?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. It was an ancient sacred object of the Seelie Court centuries ago and it was lost to them by treachery . . .treachery by one of our own, I'm afraid. The fae tell that Merlin, our greatest wizard, was once a student of Titania, and received leave from her to borrow the Cup for a time to heal King Arthur from a poisoned arrow. That was how we wizards learned of the Cup and what it could do. Lancelot, who was raised among the fae, and was a half-blood much like Severus Prince, also knew of the Cup and he told the legend to his son, Galahad. Galahad believed the Cup was the Holy Grail and he did not think the fae had any right to it, so he convinced the Cup Maidens to give him the chalice using his special powers of persuasion, though otherwise he disdained his fae heritage. He stole it away and it has been lost to the fae ever since. And that is all I know."

"Dad, Phil and Smidgen say the Goblet of Fire is really the Cup of Wonders," Harry said.

"What?" exclaimed the Potions Master. "Are they certain?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah and who would know better than they would? I mean, it was theirs first."

"Right you are, Harry," came Phil's voice and then the vampire appeared out of the air.

Both boys jumped and even Severus was startled. "Must you do that?" the Potions Master frowned at the vampire.

Phil smirked, his violet eyes twinkling. "Yes. It's fun to watch you all jump like startled geese."

"Uncle Phil, can you tell us more about the Cup of Wonders?" asked Draco, flashing the master vampire his best pleading look.

"I can. I was wondering when you were going to ask me," Phil said, and perched upon the arm of the couch. "It's time you knew the truth—the truth that only the fae know."

Before he could speak again, there came a knock on the door of the suite.

"Harry? Draco? Are you in there?" called Hermione.

"Come in!" Draco called and the door opened.

In came not only Hermione, but Ron and Katie also.

All of the Snapes froze, for Ron and Katie had never met Philip before and there he was, sitting in plain view on the arm of the couch.

_Oh, crap!_ Harry thought frantically, and then wondered why the vampire wasn't veiling himself from view. He looked back and forth from his friends, two of whom were eyeing Phili curiously, and the vampire, who turned abruptly to Severus and said, "Sev, I believe introductions are in order."

Severus recovered quickly. "As you wish. Come in, all of you, and shut the door." Once they had done so, Severus said, "Ron Weasley and Katie Bell, meet Philip Anthony Snape, my—"

"Brother, sir?" guessed Katie. "He looks like a younger version of you except for the . . ." she trailed off as she noticed that Phil smiling was revealing his fangs. "Oh sweet Merlin!"

"Vampire!" Ron cried, his face draining of color. "All the rumors are true!" He backpedaled and bashed his head into the door.

"Ron, it's okay," Harry said, rising. "Phil's not a bad vampire, don't go all spare."

"There's such a thing as a good one?" gasped Ron, his freckles standing out in sharp relief.

"Of course there is, just as Remus Lupin is a good werewolf," Hermione reminded him.

Severus moved then, grabbing Ron just before he fell to the floor. "Weasley, for Merlin's sake, now is not the time to pass out on my floor!" He picked up the Gryffindor and placed him on the couch between Draco and Harry. "Get hold of yourself, Ronald. You ought to know by now not to believe all those stupid rumors about me drinking students' blood."

"But . . .professor . . ._he_ really _does_ drink blood. Doesn't he?"

"I do, young wizard," Phil interjected smoothly. "But don't worry, I never hunt innocents or anyone with a conscience. Those I feed from are the dregs of society, the evil-doers, like your Death Eaters. People whom the world will not miss yet cannot always get rid of."

"Oh. Guess that's okay then," Ron said weakly. He accepted the cup Severus handed him. "What's this?"

"Tea laced with a Calming Draught. You seem like you need it."

Ron sipped the drink gratefully. "Is he really your brother, like Katie said?"

"The relationship is a bit more complicated than that, he is actually an ancestor of mine," Severus explained. "But my sons call him Uncle Phil and I have come to think of him as a sort of elder brother myself."

"Wow!" Katie said, eyeing the handsome vampire. "I wouldn't mind having an older brother that looked like him."

"Hey!" Harry pulled her down on his lap, pretending to be insulted. "How about me? I'm a Snape too and just as handsome."

"I know, but he's like a living breathing sculpture," breathed Katie, gazing at Philip dazedly.

"Got that right," Hermione agreed and Draco just groaned.

"Okay, enough with the "We Worship Uncle Phil" looks," Draco said, pulling Hermione down to sit beside him. _Bloody vampire sex appeal aura! _he thought irritably, followed by a wistful, _Wish I had some of that, so I wouldn't need to worry about Krum trying to make a move on my girl. _"You can do that later. He was just going to tell us about the Cup of Wonders, also known as the Goblet of Fire."

Phil cleared his throat. "I would hope that all of you are comfortable? Yes? Good. Harry, have you told Katie about your heritage and Prince Manor?"

"Yes. She knows all about the fae connection."

"Very well then. Simply put, your Goblet of Fire is in actuality a sacred fae object called the Cup of Wonders. The Cup, or so fae legend says, was a gift to the Seelie Court from their Goddess the Bright Lady, who is known by many names—Diana, Ceres, Nyx, Brigid—she is all aspects, Maiden, Mother, Crone. The Goddess also has a consort and lover, the Horned God, sometimes known as Cernunnos, Lord of the Forest and Wild Places. It is said that together those two gave birth to the fae and in celebration of that creation, made the Cup of Wonders.

"The Cup could do many things, hence its name. When filled with clear water, it became a vessel for healing. It could heal any poison known to man or fae, even ones that killed almost instantly, like basilisk venom. When poured upon a wound it would mend it, no matter how life threatening. Any potion put in it would have its efficacy increased to its maximum potency. It could also be used as a kind of seeing medium, and those with the Gift of Sight would always See true. It is said that the Cup could also be used as a truth teller, meaning that if a criminal drank from it, he would be forced to tell the truth, completely and honestly, no matter what. If you happened to drink from the Cup when you were weary, it would banish all of your tiredness away and make you feel energized. It could give warriors on the eve of battle courage and serenity to those who were troubled or sorrowing. And if you were hungry or thirsty, you had only to ask and the Cup could provide you with a feast of food and drink for a night. When commanded to, the Cup could also glow with blue fire to provide warmth and protection.

"But the Cup was not to be used lightly and it could never fall into evil hands. Most of those who were dark could not even touch the Cup, but a few could, those who were not irredeemably lost to darkness, and it was those whom the fae guarded the Cup against. For the Unseelie and their allies wanted the Cup for themselves, to keep and to eventually find a way to destroy it. So the Cup was guarded by a group of volunteers, the Cup Maidens, young fae women who wished to remain chaste and protect the Cup from those who sought to use it for their own ends. They were mages and warriors and priestesses of the Goddess, and for time out of mind they guarded the sacred chalice. The Cup was also used upon the coronation of a new Seelie King or Queen, and a law was passed that no fae could rule without the blessing of the Cup being bestowed on them. If the fae were the rightful ruler, the first sip of the Cup would make him or her one with the land, if not, then another must be found.

"The last ruler to have the Cup's blessing is Titania, and she has been queen for over a thousand mortal years. It was during her reign that the Cup was stolen by a young part-fae knight, the misguided son of Lancelot of the Lake, Galahad. There had always been stories of the Cup, and the priestesses of the Goddess sometimes used it in their rituals of worship, and so it became sacred and holy. Lancelot was half-fae, his mother had been a Seelie noblewoman who had come to the fire ceremony on Midsummer's Eve, and danced with King Ban of Benwick. He gave her a child and she told him that the boy would someday be a great knight and when he was old enough, she would send him for training. But until then, she raised him in the Realm of the Fae, and taught him all of her magic arts and customs. She would not tell her lover her true name, and so Ban called her the Lady of the Lake, for out of a lake she came to him, and that was how Lancelot came by that name.

"The Lady would have taught Lancelot the old ways and the old religion, and so he learned, as did any fae child, of the Cup of Wonders. When he was ten, she sent him as promised, to his father, though he could always return to her world when he needed. And Lancelot became a great knight, the best there ever was, and a great friend to Arthur and Merlin. Merlin too, had studied with the fae mages, and learned their arts, concealment and glamourie and healing most of all. He borrowed the Cup once to heal Arthur from an assassin's arrow and thus the legend of the Cup grew.

"A new faith was springing up in the world then, the faith of Christianity, and Lancelot married a woman who was of that religion, and it was she who taught his son that the Cup was actually the Holy Grail, and that it had been stolen by the heathen fairies. At this time, Camelot was falling apart, the land was at war, and Arthur was old and weary, trying to keep his kingdom together. He sought to keep his knights bound to one purpose and created the Grail Quest.

"Galahad took the quest to heart and along with his father, set out in search of it. Now Lancelot knew that Galahad believed the Grail was the Cup, even though he had tried to explain that the Cup had been around long before Christ. Galahad insisted the Cup was what they were seeking, and tricked Lancelot into opening a Gate into the Faerie Realm.

"Galahad slipped inside and shut the Gate, for he too bore some fae magic, though he rarely used it, unlike his sire, he regarded the fae blood as tainted. Then he managed to make his way to the Maidens Tower and by using yet another fae power, the Honey Tongue of Persuasion, managed to get the maidens to let him have the Cup.

"Galahad stole it and took it back into the world, claiming it was the Grail. And he had absolutely no idea of what magic it could perform beyond healing the sick and injured.

"But Merlin's young apprentice Nimue knew and she wanted it for herself. So she stole it in turn and hid it away, disguising it with glamours, and called it the Goblet of Fire. But she told no one of the true nature of the Cup, which is why I suppose only those wizards bound to the fae know the legend of the Cup, and that is how it has stayed hidden for so long.

"The fae have never given up searching, but no fae had ever come across it, until now. Smidgen says it's a sign that it is time for the Cup of Wonders to return to its true home and at the end of the tournament, she shall ask on behalf of her people that the Cup be returned to its rightful owners."

"The Minister won't like that," Hermione remarked.

"What if he refuses to give you the Cup?" asked Katie.

"We have ways of . . .shall we say . . .persuading him," Phil put in, grinning toothily.

Ron gulped and whispered, "Merlin, save me!"

Phil bit back a chuckle, then leaned over and looked Ron directly in the eyes, letting a trickle of his suggestive power flow through the boy. "You have_ nothing_ to fear from me, Ron. I will never bite you."

Ron nodded. "'Course not, sir. Professor Snape's never bitten me yet and I'm sure he's wanted to sometimes." He had a dreamy smile on his face.

That time Phil did laugh. "Severus isn't a vampire."

"He's not?"

"No. Don't believe everything you hear," Phil said. He straightened and looked at Severus, who rolled his eyes. "Your reputation precedes you, Sev."

"Wonderful," drawled the Potions Master sarcastically. He glanced at the clock upon the mantle. "Philip, I know this is early for you, but these children have curfew still and must get some sleep."

There were muttered groans from that, until Severus reminded them that tomorrow was the drawing of names from the Goblet. Then they quit protesting and went off to bed, bidding both adults good night before leaving.

* * * * * *

The next morning, sleepy but eager students met in the Great Hall, having eaten breakfast already, and were now eager to see whom the magical Goblet picked to be the three champions. Dumbledore stood off to the side, dressed in his customary purple and silver stars robes, looking as eager as a child on his birthday. The Cup of Wonders was still lit with eldritch blue fire, and as Harry watched, he could swear he saw patterns in the air. Now that he knew the full history of the Cup, he understood better why Smidgen had been so insulted at the way the wizards were treating the sacred item. It would have been as if someone had stolen the Union flag and used it as a bath towel or worse, a handkerchief.

Severus and Minerva stood with the judges, off to the side, waiting to see what happened. When Harry had asked his father last night about his role as judge, Severus had said only, "The Headmaster needed a fourth judge and Moody refused, so I agreed. Someone has to make sure the students are safe and that they follow the rules."

"And who better than you, huh, Dad?"

Severus simply nodded. Then added slyly, "I just hope the champions are better at listening to me than my sons are."

"Hey! I always listen to you, Dad. I just don't always do what you say."

"Too true, scamp." The Potions Master snorted. "I'm hoping that the champions have grown out of that tendency."

Thinking about that conversation made Harry smile and resolve to try and do better and obey Severus more often, because he knew the man really loved him and just wanted to protect him.

Dumbledore was holding his hand over the Cup now and calling out, "The champion for Beauxbatons Academy of Magic is—"

There was a whoosh of blue flame and a piece of parchment was spat out.

Dumbledore unfolded it.

"Miss Fleur Delacour! Congratulations!"

The Beauxbatons delegation was cheering and hugging her and wishing her "_Bonne chance!"_

Harry clapped too and then his eyes spotted Smidgen perched upon the Slytherin banner and Phil watching from his corner.

Now the Headmaster was requesting the champion from Durmstrang.

Another piece of paper was spat out.

"Mr. Victor Krum! Congratulations!"

A deafening howl of "KRUM!" went round the hall and the students from Durmstrang slapped Krum on the shoulder.

When things quieted down, Dumbledore said, "Last but not least, I call upon the Hogwarts champion to be revealed."

Again a piece of parchment was spat out.

Everyone held their breath as Dumbledore read.

"Cedric Diggory! Congratulations, Cedric!"

The noise over at the Hufflepuff table was so loud Harry could barely hear himself think. But that was all right. He was glad Cedric was going to represent the school. He deserved to.

"And now that the three champions have been chosen, it's time to—"

"Wait, Albus!" called Crouch. "The Goblet is still lit. The flames haven't gone out."

"How strange." Albus faced the Goblet once more. "That has never happened before. Have you another message for me?"

The Cup spat out another parchment paper.

Puzzled, Dumbledore took it. "Another champion? But there can be only three." He unfolded the piece of paper and read aloud the name printed upon it.

"Harry Albus Snape."

No sooner had he spoken the Cup's magical flames died, locking in the enchantment and now _four_ champions had been chosen to be in the tournament.

Harry was stunned. He kept thinking he had heard wrong. There must be a mistake. All around him, there was pandemonium.

"Another champion?"

"How did that happen?"

"He can't compete, he's not old enough!"

"He tricked the Goblet!"

Harry shook his head, dazed. _This can't be happening. It just can't._

But it had and then Harry heard a familiar voice over the hubbub.

"Albus, you had better explain how the _hell_ my son's name got in the Goblet, or else!" Severus snarled, he was livid. A vein pulsed in his temple and his eyes were deep pits of molten obsidian, and he glared at Dumbledore so fiercely Harry was surprised that the man was still breathing and not keeled over dead upon the floor.

Black robes billowing, Snape turned and gestured for Harry to come to him, and his gaze softened slightly when he met his son's stunned eyes.

Harry felt a wave of relief crash over him then and he slowly made his way to Severus's side, seeking shelter in his father's presence like a frightened child after a nightmare. Only thing was, this nightmare was real.

He had just reached Severus when he felt Smidgen alight on his shoulder and Phil step out of the shadows, still veiled, but his fangs were showing.

**There, a nice long one for you! Thanks for all your reviews too! You rock! Enjoy!**

**And I'll leave you with a question--should Phil reveal himself to Albus? Yes or no?**


	13. Accident or By Design?

**Accident or By Design?**

Draco was sure he had misheard the Headmaster when Dumbledore announced his brother's name as the final champion in the Triwizard Tournament. _What? What did the house elves put in the pumpkin juice? Because for a minute I could swear the old coot said that Harry Snape was the fourth champion. And how the hell can that be when it's only supposed to have three champions, that's why it's called the **Tri**wizard Tournament._ But when he looked around he saw everyone else in the hall staring with open-mouthed, gaping expressions, like a legion of half-wits.

And all of the eyes were on Harry, who looked as if he had just been hit with a Confunded Jinx.

_Dear sweet Merlin! But this can't be happening!_ Draco thought frantically. But it had.

The hall started to buzz like an angry hornet's nest, and then Draco saw his father stand up and beckon Harry to him, and give the Headmaster the mother of all glares. Then he said, in a tone that made Draco tremble even from six feet away, "Albus, you had better explain how the _hell_ my son's name got in the Goblet, or else!"

Draco gulped hard and thanked the Fates, Merlin, God, the Mother Goddess, and whoever else was out there that he was not on the receiving end of Severus's temper. He would have rather faced Lucius and his cane, or a dementor.

"Cheating rotten Gryffindor!" snarled a Slytherin from down the end of the table. "Always have to be in the spotlight."

Draco spun on the other boy. "Shut your pie hole, Rabin! My brother didn't put his name in there, it was a set-up."

"How did it happen then, Draco?" asked Crabbe.

"If I knew that, I'd be a genius, Vince. I haven't got a clue. All I know is that my dad's ready to explode and somebody better fix this and fast."

Phil silently agreed with Draco's assessment, hovering just beyond the circle of judges and teachers and the three original champions, his fangs bared. There was no doubt in his mind that Harry had been the victim of a clever hoodwinking scheme. The only question was, who would have the nerve, not to mention the cruelty, to put a fourteen-year-old boy's name in the Cup? Had this been the Faerie Realm, Phil would have pegged an Unseelie spy from the get-go. But here at Hogwarts?

The violet eyes narrowed and he studied the reactions of the other adult wizards intently, trying to see if they seemed odd. He was already slightly suspicious of Professor Moody, but the Defense professor was not objecting as vociferously as Headmaster Karkaroff to the unexpected surprise addition.

"Ask the boy, Dumbledore, how he managed to hoodwink a powerful magical object? He probably was put up to this by his father, who was never one to inspire trust or awe in anyone and always longed for greatness."

"What are you implying, Karkaroff?" Snape spun on the other wizard, his eyes glittering like shards of onyx.

"Perhaps you decided to . . .what is the word . . .live through your son, yes? You always craved recognition, Snape, and maybe this is how you will get it."

"You are a fool, Igor. You always have been," Severus spat, vitriol dripping from his tongue. "As if I would risk my son for the sake of fifteen minutes of fame."

Karkaroff's eyes narrowed and he smirked slyly. "One never knows what you will do . . .traitor."

Before Snape could reply, Dumbledore stepped between them and said, "Gentlemen, if we could please take this discussion into a more private setting, come along, all of you and we shall go into the small classroom here," he led the way into the unused classroom off the Great Hall, and McGonagall, Crouch, Moody, Bagman, Madame Maxime and the four champions followed.

No sooner had they disappeared into the room, then Draco also made a hasty exit, using his kin-sa-dor techniques to slip away from the table and around the side where a second exit to the small classroom was located. He promptly put his ear to the door and muttered a Sharp Ears charm, so he could hear every word that was being said.

Inside the Hall, Smidgen blinked into the room and Phil slipped in as the rest were filing inside and observed from a corner. He would have liked to eavesdrop on Karkaroff's thoughts, but he knew if he let down his shields, he would be overwhelmed by everyone's thoughts at once. Reading the Headmaster of Durmstrang would have to wait. Besides, taking his cue from Severus, Karkaroff was not to be trusted. _So far I have two suspects, Karkaroff and Moody. _The vampire mused.

Madame Maxime was frowning at Harry and then she turned to Dumbledore and said, "Professor Dumbly-dorr, 'e is too young to compete in zee tournament. The boy does not know 'alf the spells the others do. 'ow can you even consider allowing him to compete?"

"This is highly irregular, Dumbledore," Bartemius grumbled, looking scandalized. "Nothing like this has ever happened before."

"I say, it is rather improbable. How could it have happened anyhow?" asked Ludo Bagman, scratching his head and looking rather like a puzzled terrier who has lost the rat he'd been trailing.

"That is what we are here to discover," Dumbledore said smoothly. He turned to Harry, who was standing near Severus with a dazed expression on his face. "Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"No, sir. I don't know how it happened." Harry answered honestly, meeting Dumbledore's eyes squarely.

"Did you ask an older student to submit your name?" prodded the Headmaster.

Severus was incensed and would have spoken up, but Minerva grabbed his arm and shook her head pointedly.

"_No_, sir." Harry replied, more emphatically this time. He could not understand why Dumbledore didn't believe him. "I was with my father and brother last night, in Dad's rooms. We were studying for class the next day, Defense and Charms . . ."

"A likely story," sneered Karkaroff. "The boy's lying, of course. This was all arranged by you, Dumbledore, so you could have more than one champion compete in the tournament. Admit it!"

Dumbledore remained composed, ignoring the accusing glance of the other Headmaster. "I shall admit to nothing, Igor, for I have nothing to admit."

"No? How about letting your professors and their offspring be favored above all others. I move that we re-do the drawing and let a second candidate be picked from both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons."

"'Tis only fair," Madame Maxime agreed.

"That is impossible," broke in Crouch. "Once the Goblet has chosen the champions, it is done, the fire goes out and will not be re-awakened until the next tournament. They will all have to compete, it's a magically binding contract."

"But . . .but . . ." the Beauxbatons Headmistress sputtered.

"No!" Severus cried. "Harry is not of age and I refuse permission for him to compete."

"Severus," Dumbledore began gently. "I'm sorry, but this is one time when your wishes as a parent must be set aside. He is bound to the tournament, like the other three."

"Dammit, Albus, then _unbind_ him!"

"Yes, Dumbledore, for it is cheating to have two champions, and especially one releated to a judge." Moody spoke up then.

"I cannot do that," Dumbledore said regretfully.

"You mean, _will_ not." Karkaroff growled.

"Now that is quite enough, Karkaroff!"Minerva snapped, locking eyes with the tall wizard. "Dumbledore would never cheat, nor encourage a student to do something so underhanded. If he says it cannot be done, than it cannot be done."

"Your faith in your Headmaster is touching, Minerva, but I say he deliberately blurred the Age Line so young Snape could slip past and put his name in the Goblet."

"What proof do you have, Igor?" Severus challenged. "Absolutely none."

"I have all the proof I need, Snape!" Karkaroff crowed. "Like father, like son. He probably learned to lie before he could walk, being the son of a _spy_. A lying slithering coward who abandoned the woman he loved to die alone—aghhkk!"

Karkaroff never finished his sentence, for the simple reason that he was now slammed up against the wall, and Snape's hand was about his throat, slowly throttling him. The other wizard struggled, his feet kicking spastically, but Snape was dangling him a good foot off the ground and the Potions Master was stronger, much stronger, than he looked.

"Do not _ever_ speak . . .like that . . .about Lily!" Severus rasped, his eyes burning with a terrible fury and an even greater sorrow.

"Severus, let him go," Dumbledore ordered softly.

Karkaroff was slowly turning purple from lack of air.

"My son is not a liar. I was with him last night," Snape hissed. "If anyone is a liar here, it is _you_, Igor you pathetic coward! Faced with Azkaban, you sang like a canary and tried to save your own skin. You gutless cur, you know not the meaning of loyalty or honor."

"_Severus_!" Dumbledore called again, tugging on the Potion Master's sleeve. "You don't want to damage him permanently."

"Why not? He'll be no great loss," sneered the other, then with a flick of his wrist, released him. "You're not worth doing time for, weasel." Karkaroff collapsed upon the floor, gasping. Snape leaned down and snarled, "Keep your mouth off my son, Karkaroff. If you dare to slander him in even the slightest bit, I shall let slip several things about you that will haunt you till your dying day. Understood?"

The Durmstrang professor made a whimpering noise of assent. He slowly got to his feet, rubbing his throat.

"Severus, really!" Minerva reproved softly, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Must you terrify our guest that way?"

Severus snorted.

Phil wanted to cheer as he watched the wizard he had come to think of as his little brother take that sly skulking weasel down a peg. Karkaroff had no right making such accusations and had needed to be taught a sharp lesson. _Good one, Sev! Now maybe he'll mind his manners. But if not . . .**I** can always pay him a little midnight visit and let my teeth talk to his throat._

"We still don't know how Harry's name got into the Goblet," Minerva mused. "The Age Line was not breached."

"It's simple, Minerva," Moody said. "Someone put the boy's name into the Goblet knowing he would have to compete if it was called. How very convenient, don't you think?"

"Too convenient," Madame Maxime said coldly.

"I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards and perhaps even the Aurors for assault upon my person—" here Karkaroff paused to throw Snape a hateful glare.

"Will you now?" Severus said silkily. "And will you also tell the Aurors how you insulted me and provoked me?"

Karkaroff's hand went to his wand. "Anytime you wish to duel, Snape . . ."

"I don't duel cowards and children," the professor said disdainfully.

"How _dare_ you!" spluttered the other wizard.

"Enough, gentlemen!" Dumbledore cried, coming between them. "Come to order and behave like adults or must I separate you like quarreling five-year-olds?"

Both wizards subsided.

"You were saying, Alastor?"

"If anyone should be complaining, it's young Snape, but I haven't heard him saying anything—" the old Auror began, only to be interrupted by Viktor Krum.

"Why should he complain? He gets to compete and win a two thousand Galleon prize."

"Yes, it is a prize most would die for!" cried Fleur.

"Perhaps, young lady, that is what someone meant . . .for Snape to die," Moody pointed out sternly.

Minerva looked sick and Bagman shook his head. "Oh, come now, Moody, old man, not another conspiracy theory . . ."

_It does make sense, too much sense,_ Phil thought darkly. _Even so . . .there is still something about the man that makes my skin crawl, and there have not been many people I have met that can make me uneasy, especially after a thousand years._

_:Indeed. There is something . . .not right about both of them,:_ Smidgen warned.

Karkaroff had regained his voice by this time and was laughing hoarsely. "Ah, Moody wouldn't be Moody if he did not see conspiracies, plots, and assassinations around every corner. I hear that you even check your shadow for jinxes. I'm surprised that Dumbledore would consider hiring a paranoid past-his-prime wizard as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Then again, there were hardly many candidates lining up for the job."

Moody fixed Karkaroff with his magical eye. "If I were you, Karkaroff, I'd hold my tongue. You never know when someone might be tempted to hex it off." He turned back to Dumbledore and the others. "As I was saying, it took a powerful wizard to hoodwink a magical artifact like that. I have a theory that whoever put Snape's name in the Goblet probably used a different school name, thus guaranteeing that his name would be drawn, since his was the only name submitted by that school. Crafty and clever and definitely not someone who wishes the boy well."

Severus was nodding in agreement. "That sounds like a plausible theory."

_But in order to do that, the wizard must be very powerful, to subvert the Cup of Wonders,_ Philip thought. _Very powerful and very deluded. The obvious answer would be Voldemort, save that he is half-dead and too weak. So it must be one of his followers. I would guess Lucius Malfoy, except he is safely locked away. And the other one would not dare leave his master in such a state. So that leaves me with a mystery to solve._ The violet-eyed vampire licked his lips. He always enjoyed a challenge.

"Pah! Moody is grasping at straws . . .either that or going senile," Karkaroff scoffed.

Moody's eye whirled. "I'm thinking maybe Snape had the right idea, and you need a muzzle, Igor. Or to be strangled again. I don't care which, so long as you quit flapping your jaw."

Karkaroff paled and stiffened. But he made no comment.

"Well, whether by accident or by design, regardless, Harry Snape is the fourth champion of this tournament." Barty Crouch said. "Now that has been established . . . ."

"Wait a minute!" Krum objected hotly. "This was never supposed to happen. He has no business being with us. He looks barely old enough to wipe his nose, much less cast spells."

Harry, who had remained quiet all this time, turned and shot the taller boy a glare worthy of his Name. "Who asked _you_, Krum? You think you're all that because you're some big-shot Seeker."

"At least I don't cheat to enter things."

"I _never_ cheated—!" Harry began hotly.

"Master Karkaroff says you did," Krum said bluntly, leveling his wand at Harry.

Only to feel the tip of another wand poke him in the back. "Your Master Karkaroff doesn't know crap about a dungheap."Draco snarled, his gray eyes stormy. "Aim your wand at my brother again, Mr. Celebrity, and you'll be doing interviews from the Hospital Wing."

Krum twisted halfway around and cried, "You dare threaten me!"

Draco, who though not as tall as the other wizard, was fully as self-possessed, sneered, "It's not a threat, beaverhead, it's a promise. Hurt my brother and I _will_ hex your arse right back to Durmstrang."

"Ha! I vould like to see you try!"

"Control your student, Igor," Severus ordered frostily. "Draco, Harry, put up your wands. _Now_."

Both of his sons obeyed, jumping at the sharp tone.

Draco tossed Severus a sulky look. "No fair, Dad. How come you get to beat up somebody and we don't?"

"Draco Michael, what are you doing here?" Severus demanded. "This is a private conversation." He narrowed his eyes. "You know how I feel about eavesdropping, young man."

"I just wanted to make sure Harry was okay," replied Draco defensively. "And he wasn't, because the Orc from the North was starting with him." He indicated Krum with a jerk of his head.

Krum still had his wand out, until Karkaroff said, "Viktor. Put it down. We don't wish to cause an incident."

"Like you haven't already?" Harry muttered, but subsided at Severus's warning glare.

Krum lowered his wand. "Next time, little boy, you won't have Daddy around to protect you."

Severus grabbed Harry before he could retaliate. But that left Draco free to slam Krum a good one in his over-large nose and mouth.

The next thing Krum knew, he was on the ground, bleeding, and Draco was standing over him, fists clenched. "Button it, orc. Or I'll make you wish you had."

Viktor stared in horrified fascination at his bloody hand. "Huh? I am . . .bleeding!" he cried and then there was a thud as he passed out cold.

"Some champion you got there, Karkaroff," Moody snorted. "Faints at the sight of blood."

Karkaroff shot the ex-Auror a nasty look before going to tend to his student.

Severus released Harry and collared Draco, saying swiftly, "Draco Michael Malfoy! Go to my quarters and wait for me. We are going to have a long discussion about minding your own business."

"Harry _is_ my business, Dad. He's my brother."

"March, young man!" Severus ordered, out of patience, and he half-dragged Draco to the door and shoved him out, though not before giving him one well-placed swat on the seat.

"For Merlin's sake, Dad!" Draco cried, then he left, waiting until Snape had shut the door before rubbing his bottom. Sighing, he made his way down to the dungeons, wondering if his hasty actions had cost him the Quidditch game tomorrow.

_Bloody hell! Now I'm in for it. But what was I supposed to do, let Orc-breath hex my brother?_

Back inside the room, Krum had been patched up by his teacher and Dumbledore, and order had been restored once more. Among the wizards, that is. A certain vampire was longing to take a bite out of both Karkaroff and his student and Smidgen hissed indignantly to him, _:I wonder how they would react if their furry cloaks came alive and attacked them, the great boobies?:_

Philip did not answer, he was too busy trying to muffle his laughter in his sleeve. For several long moments he remained so, only his violet eyes betraying his mirth. _Lady Catkin, you are too much! _

_:I do not like the tall wizard, he reeks of old blood and darkness. And his apprentice . . .is full of himself. Phfaugh!:_ Smidgen shook herself and sniffed disdainfully, as only a cat could. _:Draco was right to give him a love tap.:_

Phil nodded in agreement, the focused upon Snape, who was coming back into the room, his face set behind his professor's mask.

_Philip? Can you hear me?_ Severus thought.

_I can. What is wrong?_

_I sent Draco back to my quarters, could you or Smidgen follow as an escort? Just in case?_

_Yes._ The ancient vampire turned to the fae cat. _Would you mind, Smidgen?_

_:No. It would be best if I left, that way I'm not tempted to do something nasty.:_ Smidgen acquiesced and then she blinked away.

Harry and Cedric were standing across the room next to Professor McGonagall, who had her hand upon both of their shoulders, while Bartemius Crouch explained the rest of tournament rules and requirements.

"There are three tasks, as you know, but we shall not reveal them to you until the proper time. The first task shall take place on November 24th, and you may not have help from your teachers or parents of any kind to complete them. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wits and their wands. You will receive information about the second task when the first is completed. And due to the time constraints of the tournament, you are all excused from the end-of-the-year tests."

Cedric cheered and so did Harry, so far that was the only thing about this whole mess that Harry liked.

"And I believe that is all," Crouch said.

Cedric turned and looked curiously at Harry. "Well, looks like we'll be playing again with each other, huh? Quidditch and the tournament."

"Yes." Harry wished it were anyone but Cedric. He liked the fellow and hated to think of him as a rival.

"So . . .how did you do it?"

"I didn't."

Cedric gave him a skeptical glance. "Okay, whatever." He clearly thought Harry was lying.

"Unfortunately for you two, gentlemen," Dumbledore broke into their conversation. "You still have classes to attend. If there is any information about the tournament or additional things you need to know, we shall summon you from class. You are dismissed." He turned to Crouch. "Barty, won't you join me for a drink in my quarters?"

"I'm afraid not, Albus. I have to get back to the Ministry, important work to do, but I will return in a week. In the meantime, my assistant Percy . . .ah . . .Weatherby . . .Weaselby . . .I never can remember his name . . .will be handling things for me. He wishes to work for the Ministry and this is a kind of internship if you will . . ."

_Oh great! Percy in charge again! He'll make my life hell, the prat!_ Harry groaned to himself. He was about to follow Cedric out the door, when his father beckoned to him. "Yes, Dad?"

Snape leaned in close to him and said softly, "Meet me in my quarters after class, Harry. We'll discuss this and what precautions you need to take then."

"All right. What about Draco? He was only defending me, are you going to—"

"I will discuss Draco's attitude with Draco, Harry, so do not concern yourself," Severus cut him off. "For now, go to class and concentrate on your studies. There will be time later to worry about the tournament."

"I didn't put my name in there, Dad."

"I know that, phoenix. Your honesty is beyond reproach. Now go, before you're late." He ruffled his son's hair, gave his shoulder a friendly pat, and then Harry turned and left.

_At least Dad and Draco believe me,_ Harry thought in relief. _I wonder if anyone else except Ron, Hermione, and Katie will?_

Severus sighed as he watched his son depart, then he sent to Philip, _Phil, please tell Smidgen to tell Draco he may go to class and we will discuss his behavior later?_

_I shall, Sev. Only don't be too hard on the boy. He was only doing what you would have. Or what I would have liked to, were I still fourteen._

_I know, but nevertheless . . .I have to give him some consequences, _the Potions Master sighed. _Is there no way the Cup can be reversed to release my son?_

_Not that I know of. The Cup was used in lieu of a magical vow, so to speak, and any signature placed in it is binding. I am sorry, Severus. But we must play the hand the Fates have dealt. I will be behind him, protecting him as best I can, you know that._

_But will it be enough?_

_By my life and my Name, Severus, it will have to be. _Philip declared sharply. _You may be forbidden to aid him in this tournament, but I am not. The tasks must be completed by him, but I am neither teacher nor wizard, and therefore not bound by the terms of the tournament. I will be able to offer advice and protect him from any bullies who seek to get rid of him._

_Thank you, Philip. That . . .eases my mind considerably. Karkaroff is not to be trusted. I know him from way back, he is a former Death Eater, who sold out his fellows to the Aurors, he cut a deal with them as an informant as an alternative to Azkaban._

_Ah. I had thought it might have been like that. He bears watching then. I shall see to it._ Phil promised.

"Severus? Aren't you coming?" called Minerva, looking at him oddly. "Don't you have classes to teach?"

"Yes. I will be along," Severus replied, then he turned and followed his colleague out of the room, his heart heavy within him over this latest turn of events. Why was it that nothing was ever easy for him or his family?

Behind him, the master vampire shook his head sadly, then slipped away up the staircase to sit in on Harry and Draco's Defense class, for there was still something nagging him about Moody. He might have come to Harry's defense, but was that only to hide his own agenda?

**Hope you all liked and sorry I made you wait, but I was working on a critical part of Two hawks Hunting. Check it out to see what I mean, if you haven't already.**

**Next: Harry and Draco learn Unforgivable Curses and discuss Harry's role in the tournament with Phil, Severus, and Smidgen.**

**A very warm thank you to all who are sticking with me on this one! Phil will be revealing himself to Dumbledore at a later date, concealed works best for now.**


	14. Defense Lessons of Different Kinds

**Defense Lessons of Different Kinds**

Harry caught up with Draco in the corridor heading to Defense and Ron joined them a moment later. "Harry, how did you get your name in the Goblet?" was the first thing out of Ron's mouth.

Harry sighed exasperatedly, though he suspected he was going to be asked that question a lot so he had better get used to it. "I have no idea, Ron. I didn't ask anyone to put it in, or break Dumbledore's Age Line. I was with my dad and Draco and Uncle Phil last night."

"That's right," Draco agreed. "And we think whoever stuck Harry's name in there wanted him to compete so he'd get hurt badly . . ." Here the Slytherin's voice lowered so only Ron could hear him. " . . .maybe even killed."

"_What?_ But that's . . .that's insane!" Ron sputtered. "Who would want to kill Harry?" he gasped. "He's a hero."

Draco shook his head in disgust at the other's obtuseness. "Think about it, Weasley. Think long and hard. Heroes die young and who's his greatest enemy?"

"You mean . . .oh." Ron went pale. "But what are you going to do about it? Can you just . . .quit?" He was looking at Harry strangely, as if he expected him to fall down dead any minute.

"No, I can't. Once the Goblet spit my name out, it bound me to the tournament like the rest of them. I couldn't quit now if I wanted to. I have to compete."

"Blimey! That's . . .that's . . .that really sucks."

"Tell me about it. I really hope Moody teaches us something useful in Defense. I think I'm going to need it."

"If not, then Dad will give you extra lessons," Draco reminded him.

"Your dad gives you extra lessons in Defense? Merlin! I wish mine did." Ron said enviously.

"Once you've been through a session with him, you wouldn't," Draco chuckled. "He's like an Auror sergeant, tough as nails. You ache when he's done with you, trust me. But it's worth it, because what he teaches stays with you."

Harry nodded in agreement. "That's for sure. And he teaches stuff that could save your life if you happen to go up against a dark wizard."

"Well, I just hope Moody doesn't give us too much homework this lesson." Ron said.

"Me too. Because I have a feeling I'm going to be writing a punishment essay from my father for punching out the Orc from the North," Draco said ruefully.

"The Orc from the North?" Ron looked puzzled.

"He means Krum," Harry clarified, grinning.

Ron nearly fainted. "Krum? You . . .you punched out _Krum_? The . . .the world's youngest international Seeker?"

"I did. And I'll do it again." Draco said.

"Why'd you do a thing like that, Malfoy?"

"Because he was being a git to Harry, that's why. Starting crap with him. Said he was too young to compete and a liar and that he needed to hide behind my dad's robes. So I belted him one and bloodied his nose."

"He really said that about you, Harry?" Ron repeated. When Harry nodded and scowled, Ron said angrily, "And here I thought he was cool and someone to admire . . .guess he's nothing but a conceited prat after all. I'm glad you hit him, Malfoy. I wish I'd of been there, I would have given him a black eye."

"And when he saw the blood coming out of his nose, Weasley . . .he fainted." Draco told him. "Just like a little baby. Passed out cold on the floor."

Ron smirked. "Pansy-arse. Fainting over blood. Was your dad like, spitting mad?"

"Kind of. But he really can't talk, since he strangled Karkaroff before I did anything to Krum," Draco said.

"He _did_? No way! What _were_ you discussing in there?"

"How my name got in the Goblet," Harry answered. "But Karkaroff said some nasty things about me and Dad, but the final straw was when he said something about my mum. Then Dad let him have it."

"What'd he say?"

"Some trash about how my dad never really loved her and abandoned her first chance he got," Harry answered.

Ron whistled. "Karkaroff's lucky he's still breathing."

The professor's sons nodded. They had never seen their father lose control like that ever, and it had frightened them a bit.

"I would have loved to see that," Ron sighed. "Figures, I miss all the excitement around here. I hope this Defense lesson is good. Fred and George said it was awesome, but they could have been putting me on."

"Very true, Ron," Hermione said, she was waiting for them at the top of the staircase. "You never know with your brothers. I hope the class will be practical and informative, not like our other ones."

"You didn't seem to mind the one with Lockhart all that much, since you got to stare at his lovely face all afternoon," Ron reminded her.

Hermione blushed. "That was then. I was a silly girl with a crush."

Draco gaped at her. "You had a crush on Gilderoy Lockhart?"

"So? So did half the girls in the school," Hermione said irritably. "Now will you please stop reminding me of it?"

"I think she's still not over it," Harry teased, and Ron snickered.

"I am so!" Hermione protested. "I have someone who's ten times better, and not a conceited puffskein besides. Right, Draco?" Then she pulled Draco into an embrace and kissed him.

"I'd say so," Draco grinned, when he could talk again. He smiled tenderly at the witch. "Thanks, Mione. I needed that." Then he linked arms with her and they continued down the corridor to the classroom.

"Do I look that . . .ridiculous when I'm with Katie?" Harry asked Ron, sincerely hoping not.

"You look worse," his friend replied.

Harry promptly socked him in the shoulder.

"What? It's the truth. You get all moony-eyed and your face goes all dreamy and sort of stupid—oww!" Ron yelped and rubbed his other shoulder. "If you didn't want to hear the truth, Harry, why'd you ask me?"

But Harry was already walking into the Defense Against the Dark Arts and didn't bother to answer.

"Damn touchy Snapes," Ron muttered before following. He didn't hear the soft shush of displaced air as Phil glided in behind him, concealing a fanged grin at the adolescent drama.

Everyone had been seated for five minutes before Moody stumped into the classroom . . ._thunk, drag . . .thunk, drag . . ._as he limped heavily upon his wooden clawed foot, sometimes scraping it across the floor as he walked. It was rumored he had nearly gotten blown to bits in a duel with a Death Eater during the first war, which was why he had so many prosthetics. Whatever the reason, it leant an air of brooding menace to him that made even the most hyper prankster sit still and behave in his class.

No one moved when Moody came into the room and walked in front of the desk and looked upon them with his magical glass eye. "Put your books away, you won't need 'em. What I'm about to show you can't be found in a textbook."

Everyone shoved their Defense texts back in their bags happily. Practical lessons were the best.

Moody waved his wand nonchalantly at the classroom door and it shut itself. He then perused his class list, only glancing up when he called a name to put the face with the owner of it. Harry met his gaze steadily, despite the fact that the magical eye made his flesh crawl.

At last Moody set aside his register. "Now then. Up until recently, I have been reviewing the material Professor Lupin had given you before I decided to alter the curriculum a bit. You have a good grounding in recognizing Dark creatures, but you're way behind on curses and hexes. Way behind."

He turned and took out a jar of three spiders from a drawer in his desk and set it atop the table.

Ron trembled and shrank away, for he was terrified of spiders.

Harry laid a hand on his arm and whispered, "Relax, the spiders can't get out."

Ron gulped and kept his eyes fixed on the jar anyway.

"The Ministry only wants me to teach you countercurses and that's all, but that won't help you if you happen to encounter a dark wizard one night. You can't defend what you can't anticipate and you won't know what countercurse to perform unless you've seen the spell done. And no dark wizard is going to tell you what curse he's casting, therefore I am going to show you exactly what you'll need to recognize." He drew his wand.

In the corner of the room, Phil nodded in agreement with what the teacher was saying. _Very true, Moody. You cannot teach a student how to fight unless he knows what he is fighting against. The Ministry are fools if they think a competent teacher can teach while being hampered by such restrictions. _

Moody continued. "Can anyone here name some dark curses that have been used upon people in the past?"

Several hands shot up, among them Ron, Draco, Harry, and Hermione.

Moody's hand stabbed forward. "You. Malfoy. Name one."

"_Incendio maximus._"

"Yes, the fireball hex. A particularly nasty one. Your father Lucius was fond of that one, if I recall," Moody said darkly. "Burned down a lot of Muggle houses using that."

Draco went red and seemed to scrunch lower in his seat. "He's not my father anymore."

Moody's eye fixed on him. "What was that, boy?"

"He said that Lucius isn't his father anymore, sir," Hermione spoke up, angry that Moody had been so tactless.

"I'll thank you to let Malfoy reply, Miss Granger." Moody snapped. "Well?"

Draco straightened, his pride coming to the forefront. "I said Lucius isn't my father anymore, sir. Professor Snape is my guardian now."

Moody grunted. "So he is. Best you mind what you do around him then, for Snape has no love for the dark ways, in spite of his being immersed in them for years as an agent."

Draco's eyes flashed at the insinuation. "I'm not a dark wizard, professor! I never have been."

Moody chuckled grimly. "Good, glad to hear it. Stay that way. Because you'd not want Aurors hunting you down, now would you?"

"No, sir." Draco replied stiffly, outraged.

Phil frowned. He did not like how Moody had singled out Draco that way, picking on him from all the Slytherins he could have queried, there were several Death Eater children among them. Why choose Draco to target and not one of the others? And why bring up Snape's past that way?

"That's one curse. Who can name me another?"Moody went on, oblivious to the hostile stares Draco, Harry, and Hermione were now giving him.

Ron was waving his hand.

"All right. You." He pointed at Ron.

"My dad told me one. It's called the Imperius Curse . . .or something like that."

"Ah, yes. Arthur Weasley's son, right? Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry no end of trouble last time. So many witches and wizards claimed to have acted under the Imperius Curse that it was hard to tell who was serious and who was lying." He eyed Draco meaningfully. Lucius was one of those who had claimed the Imperius Curse was put on him to make him Voldemort's follower. "Let me show you what it can do."

Moody opened the jar with the spiders and pulled one out, letting it run across his palm.

Ron shook, watching in fascinated horror as Moody pointed his wand and said, quietly, "_Imperio_!"

The spider immediately began to jump up and down and do flips. It cartwheeled across Moody's palm, then stopped and bowed.

Some of the girls were giggling and even some of the boys were choking back laughter.

"Total control and command over someone or something." Moody said sharply. "It's not funny. How would you like it if I did that to you? Wouldn't be half so funny then, would it?"

The laughter ceased.

"But the Imperious Curse can be fought, if you have a strong enough will and strength of character. Most people don't though. And the only way you can find out if you do is to have the curse cast upon you." The spider stopped bowing and assumed a lotus position. "Which one of you is brave enough to let me try?"

Immediately nearly all the hands in the room went down.

Moody place the spider back inside the jar and closed it before turning to look at them again. "That's all? Humph! It would seem courage is a trait sorely lacking in here. Very well, Mr. Snape, come up here if you would. You must be strong of will to survive the tournament."

Harry came, hoping that Moody was not going to make him tap dance across the room or something utterly humiliating like that. Remember, it can be fought, he reminded himself. He stood in front of Moody, who pointed his wand at him and said sharply, "_Imperio_!"

Harry felt as if someone was whispering something in his head. _Jump onto the desk! Jump onto the desk! Do it now! Jump!_

He felt a strange pressure in his head and an urging to do what Moody was telling him. But he tried to block it out, recalling Smidgen's advice in creating a shield against mental intrusions. _No! I rule me, you don't._

Once again, the mental command came to jump onto a desk.

Harry gritted his teeth, resolved not to do it.

The class watched with bated breath.

Moody's continued to try and make Harry move, but Harry did not.

"Good. Mr. Snape here is fighting me off. Very impressive."

Moody said that calmly enough, but something hidden in his tone made Phil scrutinize him. Was that sarcasm and resentment in his tone? How had he missed that?

Moody took his wand off a minute later. "Well done, Mr. Snape. Ten points to Gryffindor. You may sit down."

Harry did so, getting the odd feeling that Moody was less than pleased with his performance and not understanding why that should be.

Draco gave him a thumbs up from across the room and mouthed, "Good one, Harry!" _Show the old bastard what us Snapes can do!_

"The Imperius Curse. Very dangerous and not to be taken lightly. Another one."

To Harry's shock, Neville raised his hand and was called.

"There's one called . . .the Cruciatus Curse, sir."

"Very good. Longbottom, aren't you? No wonder you would know that one." Moody took a spider out of the jar again. This time the spider tried to jump out of his hand, but he prevented it. "Hmm . . .needs to be bigger to show you what the curse does."

He tapped the arachnid. "_Engorgio."_

The spider grew to the size of a dinner plate and Moody set it upon his desk where it crouched in shock.

Ron nearly crawled under his desk. "Think I'm gonna be sick. Oh Merlin!" Only his eyes showed above the top of his desk.

"Take it easy, Ron. It's not moving." Harry hissed, praying Ron could hold it together. His friend was looking very green about the edges.

"Don't care. It's huge. Like those . . .other ones that wanted to eat us." Ron gulped hard.

"Just don't think about it."

"Weasley and Snape! Pay attention!" Moody barked.

"Sorry, sir." Harry apologized. "Ron's a little phobic about spiders."

"Huh. He'll have a lot more to fear than that when I'm done." The ex-Auror grunted. He pointed his wand at the spider. "Watch closely now. _Crucio_!"

Suddenly the spider curled up on itself and began to rock back and forth. Harry stiffened, recognizing those tremors for what they were, the signs of a creature in mortal agony. He knew that if they could have heard it, the spider would have been screaming in pain.

Sickened, he turned away. And met Neville's eyes, which were round with horror.

"The Torture Curse. Instant agonizing pain." Moody said. "Don't need knives or hot irons or thumbscrews if you know this spell. And you can target specific areas to cause maximum pain to a subject, like the groin or the head."

Moody kept the spell upon the spider for a minute or two longer.

Phil's eyes narrowed. Had he imagined it, or was there a note of satisfaction in the man's voice when he had explained that last curse? And was there a look of . . .pleasure in the one eye when Moody looked at the spider writhing in pain on his desk? He had known many such who reveled in the pain of others in the Unseelie Court and some among the vampires were that way too. The master vampire's mouth tightened. Somehow he did not think it good that Dumbledore had hired a sadist to teach Defense. If he were right . . .He watched closely as Moody took the spell off and reduced the spider down to size and tossed it casually in the jar, without respect for what he had made it endure. _No regard for it's wellbeing at all. Granted, it's just a spider, but still . . .it deserves respect after putting it through such torment._ There was something not right here.

"There is one more curse that you should be aware of. Can anyone tell me what it is?"

Hermione's hand shot up, but she looked sort of odd, as if she were feeling sick to her stomach.

Moody looked about, then said, "Right. Granger, tell me."

"_Avada Kedavra_. The . . .Killing Curse."

"Yes. The most dangerous curse in a wizard's arsenal. The one curse that there is no counter for." He pulled the last spider from the jar, set it on the desk and pointed his wand.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

A green light shot out from his wand and struck the spider, who dropped dead instantly.

No sound came from the students, they were all frozen in their chairs.

Now Harry felt as if he were going to sick up, recalling how Lily and James had died to save him. Was that the last light their eyes had ever seen, the bright flash of green before it ended? He knew how they had died because of his nightmares over the summer, but even so, he was not prepared for how that curse worked.

"As I said, there is no way such a curse may be blocked or countered and the only peron ever to have survived it is in front of me." He pointed to Harry, who tried to make himself invisible behind his bookbag.

"All three of these curses are called The Unforgivable Curses and the use of any one of them will land you a life sentence in Azkaban, should you try one."

"How about the fireball hex?" asked Hermione.

"That one, while nasty, is not in the same class as the others." Moody said. "Because it can be countered with a water jinx."

"But if there's no counter to the Killing Curse, then why are you showing it to us?" asked Parvati.

"Because you've got to be prepared. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. Knowing that is half the battle. That's what you're up against. Now, _Avada Kedavra_ takes a very powerful wizard to cast it, you could all get out your wands and try it and I wouldn't get so much as a cut finger. Because intent as well as power fuels that spell, as it does the other two. But that's not important. I'm not here to show you how to do it. I'm here to tell you the best way to defend against it. And that is with CONSTANT VIGILENCE!"

The class jumped and Ron fell out of his chair.

He picked himself up, blushing hotly, but no one even noticed. Except for Phil, who just shook his head.

"Take out your quills—write this down—" he ordered.

There was silence as the class wrote down everything Moody told them about dark curses. How to recognize them by wand movements and certain looks in the eye of the wizard or witch about to cast one.

He was very thorough, even Phil had to admit that, and what he told the students could someday save their life, but even so, there was something almost . . .eager in the old Auror's voice that Philip did not trust. When he spoke of taking down an enemy using a certain hex, a current of . . .enjoyment seemed to flow through his voice, and that was not consistent with the way most soldiers and warriors spoke of battles. The warriors Phil had known, and of which he was one, had never discussed past battles with such relish. For they knew the cost of killing and how it scarred one forever, even if the killing was to save one's life or another's.

_The only time I ever heard pleasure in another's voice when they spoke of how many lives they had taken was in one of the Unseelie who lived for killing and loved to see blood spilled upon the ground. A twisted and sick creature, one who was without compassion, soulless. Is this one another such?_

Phil considered lowering his shields and trying to read Moody's mind, but he knew the thoughts of the students would interfere and so he had to wait. Another time he would try and slip into the Defense teacher's head and see what he could find. Right now, he dared not leave Harry undefended and that meant keeping a sharp eye on him wherever he went.

Tonight, he would ask Severus if he might show Harry and Draco some fencing moves, for as Moody had said, it never hurt to be prepared.

Moody wound down, and after repeating his motto of "Constant Vigilence!", dismissed them and asked them to study a chapter on recognizing possible threatening situations in their textbook.

Harry was eager to get to the next class, he had Divination, because that last demonstration had roused memories best left undisturbed. He glanced about and saw most of his classmates discussing the curses, they had all thought the class was brilliant.

All except Neville, who was still sitting at his desk, apparently shaken by the performance of the Cruciatus Curse. "Neville?" Harry called softly.

"Longbottom, I think you'd best come with me," Moody said, and his tone was gentle. "Come, we need to have a talk and a cup of tea in my office."

"Oh, but sir . . .I'm fine." Neville protested weakly.

"Nonsense, boy! You're trembling, it's a bit of a shock isn't it? Come along now." Moody urged Neville to his feet and the boy reluctantly followed his teacher to the Defense office next door.

"What's up with Neville?" Ron wondered.

Harry knew, of course, what was the matter with his friend. Neville's parents had been tortured into insanity by Bellatrix LeStrange using the Cruciatus and though Neville was too young to remember it, still it was awful seeing it done and then imagining what it must have been like for your parents. Severus had told him about the Longbottoms when he spoke of some of the things he had seen as a spy, and Harry had also known about the Unforgivable Curses as well.

"Tell you later. Come on, let's hurry before we're late," he said and began to half-run towards Trelawney's Tower, anxious to get away from his classmates who were discussing the curses as if they were a new kind of horror show on the telly—scary but not enough to be considered reality.

"Who cares? She won't even notice," Ron called after him, then he too began to run.

Draco lingered long enough to tell Hermione he couldn't meet her after class in the library as usual because Professor Snape wanted to see him. "Probably to ream my arse out for beating on Krum," he sighed ruefully.

"You really shouldn't have done that, you know," Hermione said.

"Too late now for regrets. See you around," he said, then gave her a quick hug before departing.

Hermione hoped Professor Snape would go easy on him and then headed to Arithmancy.

_Later, in the evening:_

"Then would you permit me to teach the boys a few fencing moves as part of their training?" Phil asked Severus, seated in one of the professor's chairs in his office, while Severus marked that day's homework. "I know that you have been tutoring them in _kin-sa-dor_, but wasn't sure if you had begun sword forms with them."

"No, actually I hadn't. The sword is not a weapon I am very proficient in, I only know the basics. I can throw a knife, but it's not the same thing. I had thought perhaps Sarai might give them a few pointers once we returned to the manor for the summer, but if you feel they would benefit from fencing lessons with you, Phil, and are willing to take the time to teach them, feel free."

"I cannot make them into warriors in a month, or even three months, but every weekend we could practice and I can at least teach them the basics, so they will not be a danger to themselves if they do pick up a sword and how to hold off an opponent until someone older and stronger can get to them. Harry, especially, will benefit, since the tournament has been known to pit the contestants against various beasts and such."

"You're right. I would be honored if you would teach them a few moves, Phil." Severus said, marking an essay with a quick **N/A** for NOT ACCEPTABLE and then writing _Next time read the assignment before putting quill to parchment and wasting both your own and my time. Re-do this and hand in a finished copy tomorrow and you won't get a zero._ Third years! They tried to get away with everything, including making up answers to his homework essays. Did they think he didn't read them? Honestly, students these days!

There came a knock upon the door of the office and before Severus could tell whoever it was to wait, Phil spoke up. "It's Draco."

Severus slanted an eyebrow at the vampire, then called, "Come in, Draco."

Draco entered the office, looking both nervous and defiant, his typical expression when he was in trouble. Severus set down his quill and said, "Come with me to my quarters, son. This discussion is best done in private, without interruptions." He looked over at Phil. "Thank you for telling me your suspicions about Moody and good luck with keeping an eye on him."

"Come, Draco." Severus took Draco by the shoulder and gently herded him from the office.

"What suspicions about Moody?" Draco asked, hoping to stall for time.

"Do not concern yourself with that," Severus said firmly. "It's between Phil and the professor and not for prying eyes of young wizards."

"I'm fourteen, that's old enough to know what's going on," Draco argued.

"Currently there is nothing to tell," said his father simply, then he unlocked the door to his quarters and entered, Draco in tow.

"Sit," he pointed to the sofa, then waited while Draco sat down and he remained standing, towering down on the boy by virtue of his greater height. That tactic always worked in his favor.

"Now then, I assume you know why you're here, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes, sir. I'm here because I shouldn't have lost my temper and punched out Krum that way."

"Yes, and what else?"

"What else? Isn't that all?"

"No. What else did you do that was not civilized behavior?"

Draco thought hard, until finally it came to him. "Oh. You mean the eavesdropping."

"Precisely, Mr. Malfoy. Not only did you listen in on a private conversation, you also interfered in what went on inside the room. I taught you better than that when you were five, Dragon." Severus said, his voice filled with disappointment.

Draco immediately lost his defiant air and dropped his eyes to his sneakers. He hated it when Severus used that particular tone. Snape's anger he could handle, but it was the man's disappointment that cut him like a whip. He had been used to dealing with Lucius's rages growing up, and he had learned to never show fear and to take his punishments as quietly as possible, but inside he had still been defiant.

But Severus was different. Severus truly _cared_ about him and Draco wanted to please him and when his father was disappointed it made him feel ashamed and unworthy and it hurt him worse than if Severus had given him a thrashing. There had been times, growing up, when Draco had done something very stupid, that he had wished Severus had thrashed him instead of giving him a scolding and grounding him, because at least a thrashing was over and done with in four minutes, while Snape's punishments lasted for days and forced him to really reflect upon his misbehavior and how guilty he felt.

"I know that, sir. I shouldn't have done it, but . . .I was curious."

"Humph! Curiosity killed the cat."

"Not this time," Draco defended. "I wanted to know if Harry was in trouble and then when that arse Karkaroff started in on you, it made me mad, so I stayed to see what you did to him . . .and damn, but you really kicked his arse, Dad!" Admiration was evident in his tone now.

"Draco, that is not the point—"

"It is so, Dad. Because aren't you always telling us we should follow your example?" Draco said, acting all innocent. _Ha! Got you there, Dad! I'm such a good Slytherin._

Severus gritted his teeth. He knew his son had a valid point. "You know perfectly well how rare it is for me to indulge in a display of temper that way, Draco Michael. However, I would think that _you_ are smart enough to choose the right example of my behavior to model yourself after, yes?"

"Uh . . .yes . . ." Draco admitted reluctantly. How did Severus always manage to outmaneuver him?

"Good. I was wrong in trying to throttle that pig Karkaroff, for I set you a bad example, but that still does not mean you shouldn't think before you act."

"I did think, Dad. I thought about what the big idiot said about you and Harry and then I decided to hit him. He asked for it. You know he did."

"Draco, what have I told you about using physical force against someone?"

Draco sighed. "That I should only use it when I had no other choice. But really, Dad, I couldn't hex him without getting in trouble either."

"You could have walked away."

"He was holding a wand on my little brother!"

"Which I would have confiscated before he could do anything. Your heart was in the right place, Dragon, but your methods leave something to be desired. I know that Krum, like most young celebrities, can be annoying to deal with, but I'm going to ask you to do a difficult but mature thing, and make an effort to tolerate him for the length of the tournament. Do you think you can do that, Dragon?"

Draco huffed. "It'll be hard, because I really don't like him. But I'll do my best."

"Good. However, there must still be consequences for your previous behavior," Severus cleared his throat. "And they are as follows, I want you to write me an essay detailing how else you might have handled Krum's remarks and why you should not defend your brother with your fists, but with words. I also want another essay about the wrongness of eavesdropping and no dessert tonight for you."

"Aww, Dad! No dessert? That's cruel."

"Sometimes, my son, one must be cruel to be kind," Severus returned. "Now, go fetch your brother. Your Uncle Phil has something he wishes to discuss with you."

"He does? Where is he? I thought he was keeping an eye on Moody."

"He will return shortly, after dinner, which I think you should have here with me. Go, get Harry."

"No need for that, Dad." Harry said from the doorway. "Remember you told me to meet you here after class?"

"Hmm . . .yes." Snape said, frowning at himself.

"You didn't forget . . .did you?" asked Harry slyly. "Because you know what that means, don't you, Draco?"

"What?"

"It means senility's setting in." Harry quipped.

"I'll give you senile, you impudent brat!" Severus mock-growled, reaching out and giving his son a playful cuff about the ears.

"Ow! Okay, it was just a joke!"

"A disrespectful one," Severus said. "Have a seat next to your brother. Phil ought to be along shortly."

"To talk to me about the tournament?" Harry guessed.

"That and to teach you an important skill," his father told him.

Harry shot Draco a questioning look.

Draco shrugged. "Don't look at me like that, Harry. I haven't the faintest idea what it is."

Harry went and sat down next to Draco, wondering what Phil could have to teach them. Perhaps it was some magic known only to vampires?

Fifteen minutes later he had his answer, after they had eaten supper, when the master vampire entered Severus's quarters and greeted them both jovially, giving each boy one of his rare smiles.

"Hello, boys. I trust all is well with you tonight? Draco, it looks like your father left you with a whole skin."

"Mostly," answered the blond teen, earning himself a glare from said father. "All right, he went kind of easy on me."

"Wise decision." Phil said, and nodded at Severus, who looked faintly mollified. "Harry, first I would like to tell you that though you must complete the tasks of the tournament on your own, I will be available to ask advice and support you while you go through the tasks. I cannot help you directly, but I will be there to protect you from outside forces who seek to harm you. Your father and I both believe that the one who put your name in the Cup is still out there, perhaps waiting for his chance to strike again."

"And you think maybe one of them might be Moody?" asked Draco.

Phil gave him a sharp look. "You are too quick by half, Draco. Yes, Moody is one of my suspects."

"But why? He stuck up for me." Harry protested. "I suspect Karkaroff over Moody."

"And so I do. But I must not discount anyone just yet. They play a dangerous game. But then, so do I. And I have more experience than they do," Philip said, and his fangs were bared.

Involuntarily, the boys and Severus felt a shiver race down their spines. The wrath of a master vampire was not something the wise man provoked.

"Where's Smidgen?" asked Harry, for the fae cat was nowhere to be seen.

"Scouting and keeping a cat's eye view on Karkaroff and the others," Phil replied. "Eventually we will discover who was behind this and then . . .then they shall rue the day they drew breath." Suddenly Phil's eyes glowed red with wrath and a terrible cold stillness came over his features and they were reminded that underneath his civilized and calm veneer lurked a hunter that was as deadly as any natural predator on the planet. And all of them were very glad that he was on their side.

"You think there's more than one person?" Severus asked quietly.

Phil nodded. "There usually is." Abruptly he blinked and his eyes returned to their normal violet hue. The air of menace vanished and he said, "I wish to help you two learn how to protect yourselves from those who might wish you harm, wizards as well as non-wizards. Though I am a decent bodyguard, it is never wise to rely solely upon a single person or persons to protect yourself. Therefore, I propose to teach you a bit of sword fighting."

"Sword fighting?" both boys exclaimed.

"Yes. I am quite a good fencer," Phil said modestly. "Having had a thousand years of practice, as it were. Come, let us go to a special room in the castle, one that your father has told me will supply all that we may need to begin your lessons."

"What room is that, Dad?" asked Harry.

"It is called the Room of Requirement," Severus answered. "Come, I will show you where it is."

The Room of Requirement was on the seventh floor and it could only be found by one who needed it. "Place your hand upon the door handle and think of what you want the room to become," Severus directed Phil. "And then it shall try to become what you need."

Phil placed his hand upon the door handle and concentrated. _I need a place to teach my nephews some sword fighting skills. Similar to a salle in the Seelie Court._ He hoped the room would understand.

A moment later he turned the door handle and opened the door.

The room was filled with a soft white light that streamed down from an unknown source in the ceiling. It was a huge circle, and half the walls were hung with floor length mirrors. That part of the floor was covered in wooden planks overlayed with cloth pallets. The other half of the floor was covered in a layer of sawdust, which would give one firm purchase on the stone floor as well as cushion you if you were knocked down. To the left of the door was a large rack upon which hung swords made of birch wood of all sizes and types. A low bench was situated on the right side and it contained some small hand towels and water bottles.

Phil entered first and said, "Perfect! Just what I would have found on the estate of any Seelie lord." He beckoned to Harry and Draco. "All right. The first thing I need you two to do is stretch like you do when you practice _kin-sa-dor_."

Both Harry and Draco obeyed, moving over to the cloth mats and beginning the elementary stretches to limber up their muscles that they had learned over the summer. When they had stretched and meditated for twenty minutes, Phil called them over to the rack of wooden swords.

"Now then, I am most comfortable with a long sword like this one," Phil showed them a wooden sword that was about three feet long. "However, training with a long sword is not something you can master in a week or a month or even a year. I think, for now, we shall start out with a lighter weapon, the rapier." He pointed to the rows of a long whippy sword. "Pick up those and test to see what one fits your grip best and your arm."

The boys did so, finding the swords very light and maneuverable.

Draco playfully poked Harry in the thigh when he was testing his blade and Harry glared and poked Draco back in the stomach.

"Stop!" Phil ordered sharply. "This is not a game, don't act like it is. Though those swords aren't the real thing, you are to treat them like they are and no fooling around. Understood?"

"Yes, Uncle Phil," came out of both subdued youngster's mouths.

"Good. Now come over here, near the mirrors. The mirrors are here so you can see yourself performing a move and correct yourself when necessary. We'll start with a simple parry. You learn to parry first and then strike because if you don't, your enemy will kill you before you can ever get a thrust in."

He demonstrated the way you had to place your feet, with the weight balanced and the left foot forward, the right back so you could step and pivot when needed. "Grip the sword lightly in your hand. Don't hold on as if your life depended on it. In a way it does and in a way it doesn't. Now, close your eyes. I want you to imagine the sword in your hand and feel it. Become one with the sword. Think of it not as a piece of wood, but as an extension of your arm and hand."

Phil's voice was low, melodic, almost hypnotic in its intensity.

Both Harry and Draco breathed in and out evenly, concentrating on doing what their teacher said.

After about five minutes, Phil called for them to open their eyes.

When Harry did so, the sword felt less awkward and more natural in his hand. The grip was of polished wood wrapped with a black cloth. He waited, sword held before him, for Phil to tell him what came next.

"Watch me." Phil instructed. "This is a right cross parry." He demonstrated, bringing the sword across his body and then out. "Your turn."

Harry attempted to copy the vampire's parry. It was harder than it looked.

Phil corrected his stance and said, "Do it over, Harry."

Then he moved on to Draco, and adjusted his grip slightly and said the same thing.

He had them practice parries in the mirrors and corrected them for about twenty minutes. Then he turned them about and attacked them, moving slow enough so they had time to counter his strike.

"Not bad. A little slow and awkward, but you both have a good feel for the blade and an instinctive grace that is probably inherited from your fae ancestors." Phil said in approval. "Continue until I tell you to stop."

He had them practice that maneuver for an hour, then called a rest and they went to sit down on the bench and drink the water and mop the sweat from their brows with the towels.

Harry sipped the cool water slowly, feeling tired and sore, but it was a good kind of tired and the soreness was no worse than he had felt after a session of _kin-sa-dor_ with his father and Sarai.

After they had rested, Phil had them back upon the floor, this time practicing a block that was a vertical defense. He was a very thorough teacher, and not hesitant to snap at one of them when their attention wandered. But he also did not mind re-doing a move over so they could see how to do it right.

"Moody was right when he sad that half the battle is knowing your enemy. Know how he thinks, how he reacts, and you have the key to defeating him. Learn as much as you can about your enemy, whether it be human or a magical creature, before engaging it in combat. That way, you'll have a better than even chance of coming away from the encounter alive."

"But what if we can't do that, Uncle Phil?" Harry said, he was thinking about the mysterious first task and how he wouldn't know what it was until the day he had to face it.

"Then, Harry, you just have to hope for the best and study your enemy before you strike." Phil said. "Do three more repetitions and we'll call it a night. Don't want you too tired to stay awake in class."

"How did we do so far, Uncle Phil?" Draco asked.

"Not bad for your first time, Draco. We'll work on speed and accuracy later. I think we should meet every weekend at night and practice. Will that suit you?"

"Fine with me," Harry said, performing his parry again.

"Yes. I can't wait." Draco agreed, his gray eyes shining.

"Good. It's been a long time since I had such eager students." Phil said. "Oh, one other thing. Anything I teach you, you are never to use on anyone in jest. As with _kin-sa-dor_, fencing is to be used in defense of your life only. Severus told me what he did to you, Draco, when you used his teachings on Harry over the summer, and rest assured I will dole out the same punishment if I catch either of you fooling around with sticks or dueling each other with the practice swords without my express permission. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir." Draco said, flushing a little in embarrassment.

"Yes, Uncle Phil."

"All right. Put the swords away and walk about for a few minutes, give yourself a chance to cool off. Then you can take a hot shower and go to bed."

"Uncle Phil, can we tell our friends about our practices?" asked Draco as he started to walk around the salle.

"Yes. But don't volunteer my services, please. I only teach family members at present."

Once the boys had finished cooling down, Phil led them from the Room of Requirement. Both boys were tired but happy and Harry thought he was so tired he could sleep without dreams tonight.

He took a nice leisurely shower though, knowing all too well how much his muscles needed the hot soaking after the exercise he had done. When he got back to the portrait hole the Fat Lady greeted him with a cackle. "Oh, look who it is! The new Gryffindor champion!"

Harry blushed. He really hated titles and yet somehow he always managed to get stuck with one or two of them. "Balderdash," he spoke the password and entered the Gryffindor common room.

Only to be bombarded by half his house. "Hey, Harry! How did you do it?" cried Fred.

"Yeah, mate, tell us what bit of wizardry you performed to hoodwink the old man," George cried.

The twins picked him up and spun him about, laughing, then set him down and draped a large red banner over him like a coronation cloak.

People were cheering and clapping him on the back and offering him butterbeers and candy, it seemed as though the entire House wanted to celebrate his becoming champion.

All of the noise and commotion made Harry's head ache and suddenly all he wanted was to run away and hide. He had never enjoyed being in the public eye, like his father he was a private person. He did not relish the attention he always seemed to receive and in fact wished that everyone would just leave him alone.

All he wanted was to go and sleep.

Suddenly, Ron, Hermione, and Katie appeared from out of the fray and formed a kind of cordon about him. "All right, people, that's enough!" Katie yelled. "Leave him alone, let him breathe!" She performed some kind of spell with her wand that created a small bubble about them that pushed away people and they managed to get to the stairs and walk up to Harry's dorm without more well wishers interfering with their progress.

As soon as they had reached Harry's room, Katie canceled the spell bubble and turned to her boyfriend and hugged him. "Are you okay? Those gits were like rats, all of them swarming all over you like a piece of ripe cheese."

Harry hugged her back, shrugging the Gryffindor banner to the floor. "Is that a subtle way of telling me that I smell?"

She buried her nose in his shoulder and giggled. "Yes. You smell great, like—"

"Soap?"

"I was going to say fresh clean linens, but soap works," Katie laughed. "I can't believe your name came out of the Goblet. How did it happen?"

Harry took her arm and led her over to his bed. He sat on it and pulled her down next to him. "It wasn't me, whatever anyone says or thinks. I would never willingly compete in this bloody tournament."

"I did think it seemed unlike you, but then . . .who put your name in?"

"I don't know. My dad thinks it has something to do with revenge maybe."

"Like a follower of You-Know-Who?" Katie hissed, her eyes wide.

"Yeah. I'm glad you believe me, Katie."

"Why wouldn't I believe you?" she asked, reaching up and pushing back a strand of hair. She gently traced his scar. "You're not the type to risk your neck for glory, Harry Snape. Anyone who knows you ought to know that. You look exhausted."

"I am, sort of. I had fencing practice with Uncle Phil."

"Fencing practice? Sounds cool," Katie said.

"I always wanted to fight with a sword," Ron said wistfully.

"Maybe over the summer, I can give you a few pointers," Harry offered.

"Harry, who wouldn't believe you didn't put your name in the Goblet of Fire?" Hermione asked.

"A lot of people. Half of Gryffindor thinks I've hoodwinked Dumbledore somehow and pulled off the best prank in history. Karkaroff and Krum think I cheated somehow and tricked the Goblet and I think Madame Maxime thinks so too," Harry said, somewhat bitterly. He told Hermione and Katie what had gone on in the unused classroom after the names had been drawn.

"Merlin have mercy!" Hermione exclaimed. "Draco's not in trouble with Professor Snape, is he?"

"Not really. Dad went easy on him this time. He only made him write two essays and skip dessert."

"Only? _Only_?" Ron repeated, his eyes bugging out. "That like really bites, Harry. And no dessert is like cruel and unusual punishment."

Harry laughed. "No it isn't. Cruel and unusual punishment is being grounded for the whole summer with no broom and being made to do laundry by hand. Compared to that, Draco's punishment is nothing."

"I dunno, mate. I think your dad's awful strict."

"Well, sometimes. But if he wasn't, the two of us might have killed each other by now. Accidentally, of course." Harry admitted. "He's only like that to save our hides and . . .this is going to sound totally barmy but . . .we love him for it. He wouldn't be the same if he didn't scold us every other day."

"You really have gone round the twist, Harry, if you like it when your dad yells at you."

"It's not that I _like_ it, but it's . . .reassuring to know that he cares, even if he does tear strips off me when I need it. He wouldn't bother if he didn't love me." Then he blushed. "I can't believe I just said that."

Katie grinned and pulled his head around. "That's another thing I like about you, Harry. You're not afraid to show you care about your family. All of you seem really close, like me and my family. Someday you're going to have to come and meet them."

"I'd love to. After we finish school." Harry said. "Thanks for believing me."

"Of course we believe you, mate," Ron said, a touch indignantly. "You don't lie, well, least not to us. And you'd have to be crazy to put your name in that bloody cup and risk dying in the tournament."

"Ron's right. The TriWizard Tournament is very dangerous and you don't need the fame or the money, Harry, so why would you risk your life?" Hermione said loyally. "Don't listen to those dunderheads. They wouldn't know the difference between a real wolf and a werewolf."

Ron looked alarmed. "Uh, Harry? Do you remember what the difference is between a werewolf and a real wolf? Because I forgot."

Hermione hit herself in the forehead. "Merlin, Ron, but you really _are_ hopeless!"

Katie and Harry took one look at the redhead and the very annoyed Hermione and started to laugh their heads off.

"You two quarrel just like an old married couple," Katie chuckled.

Ron and Hermione looked horrified.

"Katie, _please_!" Ron cried. "Hermione's like my sister."

"And he's like my brother. The one who got dropped on his head as a baby," Hermione smirked, looking remarkably like Draco.

"Thanks, Hermione." Ron stuck out his tongue at her.

"Must you be so childish?" Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"Yup. I'm your brother, I'm supposed to be a pain in the arse. Says so in the Code of Brothers."

"What Code of Brothers? There's no such thing."

"Yes there is. Right, Harry?"

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Right. I wasn't born yesterday, Ronald."

"I know. You were born on September 19, 1979. Fourteen years ago."

"Brilliant, Ronald. You can read a calander."

Ron let out a whoop. "Ha! She finally admitted I'm brilliant."

"Merlin help us all!" Katie groaned. "I think someone spiked his pumpkin juice with Silly Solution."

"Nope," Harry shook his head. "He's like this all the time."

"And sometimes . . .he's worse," added Hermione. Then she smiled. "But we love you anyhow, Ronnikins."

"Ahhh! Do _not_ call me that! Only my mum calls me that and I've finally got her to stop calling me that in front of my friends."

Harry looked at the girls and mouthed, "One . . .two . .. three . . ."

"Okay . . .Ronniekins!" they shouted.

Ron turned beet red. "Aww . . .shut up! Some friends you are!"

"We're the best," Harry said, laughing.

Ron promptly picked up a pillow and whacked Harry over the head with it.

Harry grabbed his pillow and smacked Ron across the face, and that was the beginning of a very satisfying pillow fight that even the girls joined in. By the time they were through, they were laughing, feathers were flying everywhere, and Harry felt better than he had since Dumbledore had announced his name out of the Goblet of Fire.

Hermione looked about in dismay. "Heavens, but we'd better clean this up. McGonagall will have our heads if she sees this."

"Yes, Mum," Ron mimicked, then began to help Hermione clean up with a Neaten Up charm.

**Well, what did you think?**

**Next: Phil contunues his investigation and Harry gets interviewed by Rita Skeeter and Hermione is cornered by Krum in the library.**


	15. A Troublesome Afternoon

**A Troublesome Afternoon**

Despite the positive note the night had ended on, the next morning proved very trying for the newest Hogwarts champion. Most of the Hufflepuffs were disgruntled and angry that Harry had somehow entered himself in the tournament, since they so rarely got recognized for anything. Having Cedric as the Hogwarts champion was a great coup for them and a feather in their cap . . .until he had to share the limelight with Harry Snape, who already got far too much press as it was. As a result, most of the Puffs were giving Harry the cold shoulder . . .more like an arctic shoulder, despite Harry's protests that he had nothing to do with entering himself in the tournament.

They had Herbology with the Gryffindors, and snickered behind their hands all through the period, despite Ron and Hermione's glares. Several Hufflepuffs even dared to comment loudly when Harry was leaving that "Snape's a suck up. He's Dumbledore's pet and his dad's too, that's why he gets to be in the tournament."

Harry's ears turned red at the insinuation, but he forced himself to walk away. There was no sense in starting a quarrel that wouldn't change anything.

"Just ignore them, Harry," Hermione said comfortingly. "Remember, sticks and stones may break my bones—"

"—but names will never hurt me." He finished the old Muggle saying and left the greenhouse with his head high.

"They're just dumb gits," Ron added. "Who cares what they say?"

But Smidgen, whose turn it was to be on "Harry watch", did not think the Hufflepuffs had a right to slander her charge that way, and caused several Sticky Ivy plants to coil around those who had taunted Harry, making them get a terrible itchy rash with huge pustules everywhere the creeper had touched—faces, bottoms, thighs, even their heads—and clothes were no defense, since the ivy was magical and its sap soaked through cloth in about a minute.

Soon all the defamers of Harry were wailing and covered with the awful rash, and Pomona had to send all six of them to the Hospital Wing for a prolonged stay and coax the ivy back into its bed along the wall.

_That'll teach you insolent younglings!_ Smidgen sniffed then purred a thank you to the ivy, which curled its leaves at her in respect.

Then she flew after her charge, who had care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid and the Ravenclaws next.

That class proved a little better, as the Ravenclaws declared themselves neutral, basing their attitude on the fact that no reliable conclusion could be drawn either for Harry or against him in regards to his name ending up in the goblet. Hagrid, however, congratulated Harry upon his ascension to school champion, much to Harry's dismay.

"Hagrid, I don't _want_ to be a champion," Harry told him with a sigh.

"Yeah, well, sometimes we all gotta do things we don't want, eh?" Hagrid said. "How d'you reckon yer name got in there?"

"I don't know. All I _do_ know is it wasn't me."

"I believe ya, Harry. An' so does Dumbledore an' yer dad. That's enough fer me," the gamekeeper declared, then he asked Harry to pry off the lid of the large wooden crate in front of him.

The crate was labeled **Dangerous! Do Not Open!**

"Uh, Hagrid . . .if what's in here is dangerous, why are we opening it?" Harry asked uneasily.

"Don' worry about that, Harry. Had to put that there, jus' in case some kid took it into their head to take a peek. Go on, take the top off."

Harry did, and saw the oddest creatures inside. They were almost like crustaceans, looking like a bizarre cross between a scorpion and a worm. "What is that?"

Hagrid beckoned for the rest of the class to gather around. "Take a good look, 'cause this's what yeh'll be studying fer the next few weeks. They're called blast-ended skrewts, a hybrid cross between a fire crab and a sand worm."

"Eeww!" shrieked several girls. "They're nasty looking!"

"Some of them have stingers," observed Luna dreamily.

"Aye, those are the females," said Hagrid. Then he muttered, "Least I think so."

"And some of them spit fire out of their arse," shouted Dean Thomas. "Wicked!"

"Those're probably males."

"Hagrid, where did they come from?" asked Hermione.

"Ah . . .around. I kinda . . .bred them," he admitted.

"Ugh! You mean you . . .watched them mate?" Ron wrinkled his nose.

"Gross!"

"That's disgusting! Can you imagine . . .?" cried a Ravenclaw boy.

"Eeeewww!" shrieked the rest of the girls, plainly grossed out by the image that thought conjured in their brains.

"Ah . . .I thought they'd be kinda neat as pets," Hagrid said sheepishly.

"Pets? Who'd want something that dangerous as a pet?" asked Neville. "Not me! I'd rather have a fish."

Most of the other students nodded agreement.

"Well, yeh're all to observe them and help feed them for the next few weeks," Hagrid said sternly. "Sp, pair up and pick one. Yeh can put a dab o' paint on it or yer initials or whatever . . .that way yeh can tell which one's yours."

He indicated several buckets of paint standing off to the side of various colors.

Unenthusiastically, the students went and chose a paint color. Harry and Ron chose a bright lime green color and one of the smaller males. But when Harry went to dab the paint on, the skrewt blasted off and Harry ended up with a singed robe and a burnt hand. All in all, it was turning out to be a terrible morning.

* * * * * *

The afternoon was even more troublesome. Harry could understand the attitudes of most of the Hufflepuffs and even the Ravenclaws wish to remain neutral, but it was the Slytherins who surprised him the most. Most of them walked softly around Harry these days, especially after the punishment handed down to Nott and Avery by both Dumbledore and their Head of House. Plus, Draco was one of them, and he encouraged those he was friends with to respect his little brother, even if he was a lion.

That day he had Double Potions, which he used to hate, but since the summer and Snape's tutelage, he now looked forward to that class, especially because he would be together with Draco. Draco also looked forward to it, because then he could partner Hermione. But that afternoon, Harry found himself in a face-off between half of Slytherin, who supported Nott and Avery's views about him, and Draco and his friends.

In spite of Snape's punishment, Nott was still defiant and nursing a hatred of Harry and Draco and took any opportunity to make things difficult for them. He was wearing a glowing yellow badge upon his robe that read—**Cedric Diggory, the REAL champion**. "See this, Snape? Looks good, doesn't it? And that's not all it does. Watch!" He tapped the badge and it changed into a putrescent yellow color and flashed the words **Lil' Snape Sucks!**

All the Slytherins on that side of the corridor brayed hysterically and flashed their badges too.

"Ha ha! Very funny," Harry sneered, looking remarkably like Severus.

Hermione glared daggers at them. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you'll be in if Professor Snape ever saw those badges?"

Nott snorted. "What, you gonna run and squeal on us, lil' Snape? Boo-hoo! Daddy, they're being mean to me!"

Harry's fists clenched and so did Draco's.

"Shut it, Nott!" Draco ordered, his eyes the color of steel. "Copycat." He pointed to a large square badge pinned to his own robes. It was silver with emerald green lettering and it read **Snapes Rule! Support Harry for Champion!** And when he tapped his it showed a glittering cup spouting magical green fire and the words **Trust Snape!**

Harry's eyes widened. "Where did you get that, Draco?"

His brother smirked. "I was up all night making them, along with Crabbe and Goyle." He indicated his two best friends, who were also wearing Harry supporter badges, along with Millicent Bulstrode and Blaise Zabini and several others. He dug a few more out of his pocket. "Here. Wear them."

Harry caught them and handed them out to Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Dean.

Nott narrowed his eyes at the Gryffindors. "You know what this means, don't you, baby Snape?"

Harry arched an eyebrow. "What, Nott? That you finally learned how to spell? Write a coherent sentence?"

Nott ground his teeth together. "It means war, dunghead!" Then he spun on Draco. "You're slime, traitor!" He fired off a hex at the blond Slytherin.

But Draco blocked it.

"Eat this, dung bag!" howled Ron, and threw an Ants In Your Pants jinx at Nott.

Nott yelped and began dancing about and scratching his bum, yelling, "Ahhh! They're all over me! Get 'em off! Get 'em off!"

The Gryffindors started howling with laughter at the sight.

"Ron! What did you cast at him?" Hermione cried.

"Oh, a spell Fred and George made up and cast on Percy once," Ron said loftily. "It makes your bum itch and burn like it's on fire, like these insects called fire ants."

"Fire ants?"

Nott was now running in circles, frantically scratching his bottom, robes flapping up and half of his trousers falling down. "Oww! Oww!"

"Nasty things that live in America, when they bite you it really hurts, Fred and George ordered some by mistake from a Muggle catalog Dad brought home," Ron explained. "They both gotten bitten before they managed to get the nasty buggers into a jar and study them. Then they made that spell. Duck!" he yelped, as a yellow light shot towards them.

He threw himself flat on the ground, and so did Harry, whose reflexes were honed by _kin-sa-dor_ to a split second reaction time.

Hermione was not so lucky. Hexes were flying fast and furious, as Draco and his friends defended themselves from their Housemates, and Avery's Squirrel Teeth hex rebounded off of Crabbe and struck Hermione full in the face.

She gasped and then her front teeth, of which she had been so proud of now they were straight, began to elongate and grow. She screamed in pain, for the teeth ripped through her gums and lower lip. Sobbing, she covered her mouth with her hands in a desperate attempt to hide the ugly incisors.

"Hermione!" Draco cried upon seeing his girlfriend. Then he whirled upon Nott and his gang. "All right, which one of you bloody buggers hexed my girlfriend?" The glare he pinned them with would have been worthy of ten Snapes.

The other Slytherins suddenly shrank back away from him.

_Huh. I didn't know I was that scary, _Draco thought in satisfaction, until he heard a familiar voice snarl from behind him.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?"

_Oh, shit. We're all screwed,_ Draco quickly lowered his wand and gulped as a very angry Potions Master strode inbetween his warring Slytherins.

Severus didn't know when he had ever been so angry or ashamed at his Slytherins lack of decorum and discipline. It was positively disgraceful to see his snakes brawling in the corridor like rowdy Gryffindors or rabid Muggle fans at a rugby match. He had never been so disgusted. _I cannot believe this! Dueling in the corridor outside my lab, where hundreds of volatile substances could explode if a hex were to strike the wall where they were stored. The bloody little wretches! They ought to know better by now. Oh, if they were younger and I were allowed, I would take them over my knee for a good walloping!_

He fastened all of his snakes, including his son, with a glare that could have turned them all to stone.

_As it is, I'm going to have to do something I detest normally, but today I am furious to not regret it in the slightest._

"Do my eyes deceive me?" he purred in his silkiest, most deadly tone, one that every single Slytherin knew meant their doom. "Can it be that my snakes are fighting amongst themselves?"

The Slytherins cringed and looked at the floor, all save for Nott, who was still doing a frantic dance and whining, "Ooh! It stings! I'm on fire!"

Severus spun on him. "Mr. Nott, _what_ the devil is the matter with you?"

"I dunno, sir! Oww! Somebody jinxed me! And now my bum is . . .on fire! Ooh! Help! Help!" He cried pitifully, his trousers hanging half mast, revealing his boxers.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Bloody imbecile!" he growled. "Hospital Wing, Nott!"

Nott continued to scratch and yelp.

"Are you deaf? Or are all your brains located in your posterior?" Severus snapped, out of patience.

"N-no, sir. B-but I can't stop _scratching_ . . ."

"You and you!" Snape pointed to two of Nott's crowd. "Escort him to the Hospital Wing, pick him up and drag him there if you have to." He turned back to examine the rest of the students, catching sight of Hermione. "I assume you were a victim of this brawl as well, Miss Granger?" At Hermione's miserable nod, he looked over at Ron. "Mr. Weasley—"

"I'll bring her to the Hospital Wing, sir," Draco volunteered swiftly. "Please?" he added upon seeing his father's thunderous scowl.

"Very well, Draco, but this does not excuse you from punishment." Severus said shortly. "Go." He waved them off.

Draco put an arm about Hermione and whispered comfortingly to her as he led her away.

"As for the rest of you . . .you all have earned a detention with me on Saturday, 6:30 AM sharp, and all of you will get 10 points each deducted for your abominable behavior!"

Some of the Slytherins looked as though they were about to pass out.

"Ten points _each_?"

"That's _fifty_ points!"

"No it's not! It's _one hundred_!"

"Detention at _six-thirty_ in the _morning?_"

"Professor, _they_ started it!" wailed Avery, pointing at Draco's bunch of friends and the Gryffindors.

"That does not matter, Avery. _I'm_ finishing it." Snape declared frostily. He unlocked the door to the potions lab with a snap of his fingers. "You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves. My Slytherins do not brawl in corridors like fanatics at a Muggle rugby match! And I don't care who threw the first hex or who said what—quit whining and accept your punishment like wizards, not sniveling five-year-olds. Get inside and take your assigned seats. Move!"

Everyone scrambled for the door, anxious to avoid further angering the volatile professor.

Severus had his arms crossed, trying to avoid the temptation to smack a few heads and bottoms as they went past. This was going to set his House back majorly in regards to the House Cup. Not to mention how poorly it reflected upon him as their Head of House. He stalked in after the last Gryffindor had scurried in and shut the door.

Behind him, Smidgen gave a soft amused mew and said to Phil, who had witnessed the whole thing, :_Sunlight and Shadow, but these younglings are an impertinent if amusing bunch! Worse than a pack of Cornish pixies! Tee hee! But oh, the look on Sev's face!:_

Phil's eyes twinkled. _He looked very like my old swordmaster did just before he was about to lay into one of us for acting up in class when I was a boy. Old Master Thorston could put the fear of God into just about anyone._

_:Even you, Philip?:_

_Back then, yes. Now . . .well, he might still be able to, were he alive, _the master vampire admitted with a rueful chuckle. _And now, I must away, Lady Catkin, to see what Master Karkaroff is up to. I have a sneaking suspicion he is up to no good._

_:Of that, I have not the slightest doubt. Good hunting, my lord!:_ Smidgen purred, then she blinked inside Snape's classroom.

Phil blurred and raced out of the dungeons and up the stairs to the wing where Karkaroff and his students were housed.

* * * * * *

The students were subdued as they took their seats in potions, Harry was paired with Blaise again and Ron with Neville, Harry prayed there would be no exploded cauldrons this period, for he feared his father's temper would snap if one more untoward thing happened.

"Today we are brewing a fire crab antidote," Snape instructed. "The directions are on the board. You have two hours to complete it. Incompletes will result in a zero. Begin."

The students began gathering ingredients from the cabinets at the back of the room. Blaise volunteered to get theirs, and Harry began to set up the apparatus they would need. He had just started laying out the knives and mortar and pestles they would need when a knock came at the classroom door.

Colin Creevy entered, and approached Professor Snape's desk timidly. "Sir, uh I've come to take Harry to be interviewed by some reporter named Rita Skeeter."

Severus scowled. "My son is currently doing a lab and he is not available."

Colin gulped, then went on gamely, "Yes, sir. But all the champions have to get interviewed. It's Dumbledore's orders."

Severus muttered some uncomplimentary things about Dumbledore under his breath, then called, "Harry, come here."

Harry groaned and came over to the desk. "Yes, sir?"

"Mr. Creevy has told me that you are due for an interview with a reporter from _The Daily Prophet_. Apparently, it is required of all the champions of the tournament."

"Do I _have_ to, Dad? I really hate interviews." Harry's expression matched that of his father's.

"The Headmaster's orders, son. Go, get it over with."

"What about my potion?"

"You may make it up later, while my Slytherins are serving detention."

"C'mon, Harry!" Colin shrilled, sounding like an overeager puppy. "I think they're gonna take pictures and everything."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, joy."

"Off with you now, Mr. Snape. Don't dawdle," his father urged and Harry reluctantly obeyed, following Colin out the door.

At that same moment, Draco returned from escorting Hermione to the Hospital Wing. "Where's Harry going, Professor?" he asked.

"For an interview. Get started on your assignment, Draco. You may have ten extra minutes, as you were delayed. And for that brawl earlier, you have lost ten points and will serve detention with me at 6:30AM on Saturday along with the rest of your yearmates in Slytherin," Snape informed him crisply.

"Y-you gave us _all_ detention, sir?" Draco repeated.

"I did. We will discuss this more at tonight's House meeting. You may work with Mr. Zabini." He waved Draco off, and his foster son began to gather his ingredients.

Draco's cauldron was next to Ron's and Neville's, so he could keep an eye on the two for once. Twice he stopped them from adding the wrong ingredient at the wrong time, and reminded them to stir counterclockwise first.

Ron sighed gustily. "Merlin, but I wish _I_ had an interview to go to. It'd be loads better than staying here trying to make this damn antidote. I just know I'm gonna muck it up. Harry has all the luck."

"Luck? Weasley, getting interviewed is one of the most boring and irritating things," Draco snorted. "Watch your fire, it's too high."

"How would you know?"

"Because the paper interviewed me after my parents' trial."

"But, wasn't it good that you got to tell your side of things? Like Harry will?"

"You really are naïve, aren't you?" Draco said. "Don't you know that the paper almost never prints the truth about things? They print what they think readers want to hear. In my interview, they made it sound like I deliberately ran away to Professor Snape, that I'd been planning my "escape" from Malfoy Manor and my father's tyranny for weeks. Truth was, I wasn't planning a thing and only contacted him after the Aurors came and hauled Lucius and Narcissa off in chains. And I wrote to the professor from an orphanage, not from my room in Malfoy Manor. But it sounds better the other way, so that's what they printed. That's why you can't believe everything you read in the paper, and it's why Harry thinks interviews suck."

"Mr. Malfoy, would you like an additional assignment for socializing in my class instead of working?" Severus demanded, coming up behind his talkative son.

"No, sir. I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't. You are on thin ice as it is with me, young man." Severus warned.

Draco hung his head. Then he began grinding his lavender with a vengeance.

Snape peered over at Ron and Neville's cauldron. "Passable. It's a miracle." Then he moved on to Millicent and Aurora Teagarden's cauldron, black robes billowing.

Ron mouthed a "Sorry, mate," to Draco.

Draco nodded, still smarting under the reprimand. He hated being scolded in public.

"How's Hermione?" Ron hissed while stirring his potion.

"Madame Pomfrey says she ought to be okay by tonight. The hex isn't all that difficult to reverse, but it'll take time for her teeth to shrink and her lip to be healed." Draco replied out of the corner of his mouth. Then he concentrated on his potion, determined to brew it correctly and so soften some of his father's ire.

Meanwhile, Harry was enduring an interview with Rita Skeeter, a pretty blond wearing a bottle green suit, inside the empty classroom near the Great Hall. Harry was seated on a small rickety wooden chair and Rita upon a larger cushioned one that she had dragged out from a corner of the room. Harry prayed the chair would last through the interview, it creaked and groaned alarmingly when he shifted his weight. _Hope this thing doesn't break while I'm sitting on it. I don't fancy getting splinters removed from my arse. Whoever invented interviews was a bloody sadist,_ he thought grumpily.

"Hello, Harry! Pleasure to meet you!" Rita pumped his hand up and down, smiling. "Let's get started, shall we? You are just as famous, if not more so, than the other champion, Viktor Krum, and people want to know all about you." She pulled out an acid green quill and a long sheet of parchment from her leather carryall. "You don't mind if I use a Quick Quotes Quill do you? It makes it easier for me to talk to you."

"No. I guess not."

He watched as Rita tested the quill by telling her name, and the quill began scribbling rapidly. _Rita Skeeter, attractive blond anchorwoman, begins to tell the story of the famous Harry Albus Snape, Boy-Who-Lived . . ._

"I thought the quill was supposed to only write what you spoke."

Rita shrugged. "It can embellish a bit, direct quotes are so boring. Readers want action and drama. Pay no mind to the quill, Harry. Just answer my questions as truthfully as you can. How did you feel when your name came out of the Goblet? Happy? Shocked? Proud? Afraid?"

"Mostly shocked. I never expected it to pick me."

"Are you saying you didn't attempt to trick the goblet into accepting you?"

"No. I never wanted to enter the tournament."

"Oh, come now, Harry. You never had the slightest wish to become the next Triwizard Champion? Maybe make your professor father a rich man with that 2000 Galleon prize. You and I know his salary isn't all that much." Rita said conspiratorially. "You can admit it."

"Admit what? I told you the truth. I didn't plan on entering the tournament." His eyes were drawn back to the quill.

It was now writing—_Harry Snape admits to wishing to enter the Triwizard Tournament to win the prize money to assist his financially troubled father, Potions Master Severus Snape . . ._

"That's not true!" Harry cried angrily. "My dad isn't financially troubled, he makes a decent living, good enough to support me and Draco, we live on a nice-sized estate inherited from his grandparents."

The Quick Quotes quill wrote hastily, _to make payments on their estate, which is decrepit and in need of repairs._

"That's a lie! Prince Manor isn't a ruin! It's beautiful!" Harry shouted, incensed. He reached over to grab the quill, but Rita put out a hand and stopped him.

"Now, now, Mr. Snape. Mustn't interfere with a good story. How do you think your mother, Lily, would react if she were alive? Do you think she would be proud of you? Or worried? Or perhaps a mixture of both?"

Harry clamped his mouth shut. He wasn't going to discuss Lily with this lying phony or her quill. Besides, how was he supposed to know how she would have reacted, when he had never known her?

Rita eyed him knowingly. "Sorry, did I hit a nerve? I know some of these questions may be a but personal, but enquiring minds want to know."

_Tears of regret fill his startling emerald eyes, eyes which mirror those of his late mother, Lily Evans Snape, who died before Harry could get the chance to know her, foully murdered by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

Harry rocked back on his heels. "I do _not_ have tears in my eyes! Why can't you just write the truth instead of all these ridiculous embellishments?"

Rita tisked. "Temper, Harry. You must understand, child, people want dirt, not facts. They can't handle the truth." She reached out and patted him on the knee as if he were a mere child. "Trust me, dear boy, I will make you a legend in your own time. Every household in Britain will be anxiously following your epic journey in the tournament and I shall be the fortunate savvy reporter who chronicles your rise to the top. Oh, we shall go places, you and I . . ."

"The only place I want to go is back to class," Harry said stiffly. "I don't want to be a legend or anything else. I just want to be like everyone else."

"Stuff and nonsense!" Rita laughed. "Everyone wants to be famous, to get recognition. Don't be shy, you can admit it. You love when people scream your name and stare at you in the street."

"What? I hate it! It makes me feel like a freak." Harry objected. "Fame is overrated." He turned and glared at the quill. "Write _that_ down!"

The quill ignored him, spinning out a fantasy story that was as unlike Harry's real life as any fairy tale.

"Okay, moving on. What do you think the first task will be like? How do you think your chances are against the other three champions?"

"I don't have any idea. And I don't know. I guess all right." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and sulked. _Interviews are nothing but a waste of time. I'd rather be brewing antidotes._

_Despite the three year age difference, young Snape is confident he will come out ahead and win the Triwizard Cup. He displays an astonishing level of self-confidence for his years, due in part to the support of his family and friends. He believes the first task might not be as difficult as the ones to come._

By then, Harry was praying the chair would break, anything to get him away from Skeeter. Before he could say anything further, Dumbledore had opened the door. Harry had never been so glad to see the old wizard in his life.

"Harry, my boy! Are you done? Mr. Bagman wishes us to get on with the weighing of the wands and so forth."

"Dumbledore! We were at a crucial point in the interview," Rita began.

"Yes, I'm sure you were. However, it's time for the weighing of the wands and some photographs. Come along, Harry, and let us join the others."

Harry sprang to his feet and rushed over to the Headmaster. "Okay, sir. I'm ready."

Rita tucked her quill and parchment away, looking disgruntled. Then she followed them out the door.

* * * * * *

Harry went to dinner after all the photographs were taken and Ollivander had examined and weighed everyone's wand for the tournament. He sat with Ron and Draco, Hermione was still in the Hospital Wing, and picked at his food. He had lost his appetite after the interview and the photographs.

"So, how'd it go?" Ron inquired, curious to test Draco's theory.

Harry made a face. "Don't ask."

"Dad says he wants us to meet him for some Defense lessons tonight," his brother informed him. "After we finish our homework."

"Good. I've missed our lessons," Harry brightened at that, and managed to finish his pumpkin juice. Then he whistled for Frost.

The young snowy owl glided smoothly onto his shoulder. "I'm going to write to Sirius, let him know what's going on," he told them in a whisper. "_Accio_ writing materials."

Quill, ink, and parchment landed upon the table with a thump and Harry started writing. He was also anxious to find out how his aunt and cousin were faring, since they were still living hidden away with Sirius, at the wizard's request. He hoped Sirius would respond promptly.

Once he had sealed the envelope, he handed it to Frost and said, "Take it away, bright one."

Frost gave a short hoot and spread her wings and glided from the room.

"Are you sure that was a smart thing to do, Harry?" Draco asked.

"Why wouldn't it be? Sirius has a right to know what's going on."

"Yes, but now he'll worry and work himself up and maybe do something stupid, like try and come here."

Harry bit his lip. Maybe Draco was right. Sirius was impulsive. "I'll write and tell him not to worry when he answers back. It's too late now. C'mon, let's go to the library and finish our homework."

* * * * * *

Meanwhile, Phil was slipping through shadows and into the quarters of Igor Karkaroff once again. His earlier investigation had turned up nothing incriminating, but Phil didn't trust Karkaroff anymore than he did Moody and he wanted to watch the other man in his private quarters and see what he did.

Karkaroff at first behaved no different than any other professor upon returning to his quarters. He took off his heavy formal robes and shirt and put on a much cooler short sleeved black shirt and removed his boots. Then he summoned a house elf and had a bottle of firewhisley brought as well as a shot glass.

Karkaroff settled before his fire, poured the tumbler three-fifths full and tossed it back. Then he set the tumbler down, looked around carefully, and laid his left forearm across his knee. There, midway between his wrist and elbow, was a dark brand.

Phil's eyes narrowed. He knew that symbol.

The skull with the snake coming out of its jaw. The Dark Mark.

He was not surprised that Karkaroff still had the Mark, he was a former Death Eater and the brand would only fade with the Dark Lord's final destruction.

Igor was rubbing his arm as if it pained him. "It's getting darker. Much darker. Will he summon me? Can the rumors be true? Could he really have survived? And if he did . . .what does that mean for me?"

He spoke the words aloud to the room, trembling.

_It means you will die, you gutless worm, _Phil thought.

Karkaroff was sweating and he poured himself more firewhiskey and drank it down. _What to do? What to do? I must try and redeem myself for him . . .maybe then . . .he will not kill me._ The other shivered, and conjured a robe and wrapped it about himself. Then he tossed back another shot and then another. _But no! If I do anything incriminating, I break my parole and then it's back to Azkaban for me. That bastard Moody is always watching and so is Snape. Oh how I wish I could make them have an . . .accident. But they guard themselves too well. I am trapped. Trapped like a rat in barrel of water._

Hands shaking, Karkaroff drank down the rest of the bottle, then lit the fire with a slurred word and slumped in his chair, dead drunk to the world.

_Pathetic coward!_ The vampire sneered, curling his lip in disgust. _But even a cowardly dog will bite if cornered. I shall keep watch and the first move you make towards Severus or the boys shall be your last. You have more to fear than your dark master, fool. Much more._

Phil slipped from the room, he would learn nothing more from the drunken wizard this night, and he went down to Severus's quarters to tell him what he had learned.

* * * * * *

Draco was walking a little ahead of Harry and Ron as they made their way over to the library. He wanted to get his homework over and done with so he could visit Hermione before going over to Severus's quarters for his lesson. Madam Pomfrey had assured him she would be back to normal by nightfall. He slipped into the library and began to make his way back to a table in the far corner, behind some stacks of books on charms, it was one of Hermione's favorite places to study.

It was then he heard the voices.

"Surely you cannot mean vhat you said. Vhy vould you vant that puny Malfoy? He is not a real man. He is a boy. You deserve a real man, Her-my-ninny."

"Viktor, would you mind not standing so close to me? I cannot breathe with you looming that way!" snapped an irate Hermione. "I'm sorry if you dislike Draco, but _he_ is my boyfriend and I don't need another one."

"You could do so much better," Krum said, breathing heavily.

Draco crept over to see what was going on.

Krum had Hermione pinned up against a bookshelf, his big hands resting on either side of her, looking as though he were about to steal a kiss. Or worse.

Draco saw red. Before he could think better of it, he had lunged at Krum, his foot sweeping across the back of the other's ankles.

Krum toppled with a cry, as Draco yanked his collar hard, causing him to fall backwards.

He landed upon the floor with a thud. "Oof! Vhat on earth?"

"Keep your hands off my girlfriend, Krum!" snarled Draco, eyes glittering. "She's off limits to you and anyone else."

Krum struggled to his feet, wand in hand. "Says who?"

"Me," Draco said, confronting the taller wizard eye to eye fearlessly. "Go find someone else." He knew better than to draw his wand. Drawing a wand was tantamount to casting a hex to truly harm and Draco wasn't Severus's student for nothing. He did not want to end up in the Oubliette. So he kept his hand away from his sleeve and settled for glaring icily at Krum. "Mione, you all right?"

"Fine. The big baboon didn't hurt me," she said, and Draco was relieved to hear her old spirit back in her voice.

"Baboon? Vhat is this you call me?"

"A baboon is a big ugly monkey with a red arse," Draco supplied. "And I'll make you look just like one unless you stay away from Hermione."

"I am more fit to be vith her than you, leetle boy!"

Draco sneered. "You're not fit to partner a dung beetle, Krum. All you have is your big shot reputation as a Quidditch star and a vault full of Galleons. Big freakin' deal! Hermione could give two hoots about that. She doesn't even like Quidditch!"

"You are just jealous. Vhat have you got that I haven't? Nothing!" Krum leveled his wand at Draco's head. "You haf two seconds to step aside, or else I shall hex you good."

"Leave him be, Krum!" Hermione shouted.

"Stay out of this, girl!" Krum ordered arrogantly.

Something in Hermione snapped then. "You know what? I am sick and tired of all of you arrogant boys telling what I can and can't do. You seem to forget that I have a brain and I can use it. Now . . .leave . . .Draco . . ._alone!_"

And with that she marched around Draco, wand leveled, and spoke a spell that knocked Krum down and froze him. Then she put her hands on her hips and glared down at the tall Quidditch Seeker with a look that would have done a Snape proud. "Maybe _that_ will get your attention, you arrogant, conceited, oversexed booby!"

Draco whistled.

Hermione whirled on him, wand still raised. "What are you looking at?"

"One hell of a witch," Draco replied, then he pulled her in to his arms and kissed her quite thoroughly. "I missed you, little bookworm."

"I missed you too, dragon mine," she murmured against his mouth.

"What spell did you cast on him?"

"A Body Bind coupled with a Sleep Charm," she replied. "He'll be out for hours."

"Serves him right. Remind me never to mess with you when you're mad."

Hermione smiled. Then she gathered up her bag and said, "How did you know I was here?"

"I didn't. I was coming here with Harry and Ron to do homework," Draco answered, walking back through the stacks.

As if summoned, Harry and Ron appeared in the doorway of the library. They rushed over to greet Hermione as soon as they spotted her.

"Hermione! You look great! Well, better than you did last time," Ron said.

"How did you get Pomfrey the dragon to release you?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged mysteriously. "I have my ways."

"That's for sure." Draco put his arm about her. "She just kicked Krum's arse."

Ron's mouth fell open.

"What? How?" asked Harry.

Draco told them.

To Hermione's relief, he didn't seem to mind that she had defended _him_ for once. The other two clapped her on the back and declared that she was first rate for taking on the Orc from the North, as Draco had called him. They quickly filled her in on what had gone on while she was in the Hospital Wing.

Afterwards, she steered Draco over to an empty table and shoved him in a chair. "Homework, Malfoy. You don't want your dad to get even more riled at you than he already is, do you?"

"No, Mum," Draco quipped.

Hermione smacked him on the back of the head lightly. "Get to work, mister."

"Be my study partner," Draco said, and pulled her onto his lap.

"Doesn't look like you'll get much studying done that way," Harry observed.

"Be quiet and read your potions book," Draco ordered, gazing into Hermione's eyes. "I'm doing an advanced thesis on human relationships."

"Good one, Draco!" Ron hooted. "I've got to remember that!"

But they hushed soon enough when they heard the tapping of Madam Pince's heels coming towards them.

Hermione slid off Draco's lap and opened her Astronomy book just as the librarian appeared inbetween two bookshelves.

"Please keep your voice down, this is a library, not a common room!" she said crossly.

They all murmured apologies and began to do their homework, finishing what they had been given some two hours later.

Then Draco and Harry said good night to Hermione and Ron, telling them they would see them later and walked together to Severus's quarters, where their father awaited them. Both of them hoped he was in a better mood than he had been that afternoon and wouldn't work them into the ground.

**I originally planned to have Sev tutor them in Defense in this chapter, but I figured enough had happened here already and I would save it for the next one.**

**And you'll find out what Sev does to his Slytherins as well for detention. **

**How did you like what happened in here? Did you think Rita was well done?**


	16. A New Dueling Club

**A New Dueling Club**

When they reached the Room of Requirement, they found Severus waiting for them. To his sons' relief, he did not look angry, and he quickly beckoned them inside before the door shut. "We have only an hour before you two need to get some rest so you're not dozing through your classes tomorrow morning," their father stated. "So, warm up with some basic stretches, and then I'll teach you a Rebounding Charm, which is designed to reflect a hex or curse cast at you back on your opponent. It will work on the Cruciatus Curse and most any other harmful magic save for Avada Kedavra."

"Neat! How come we were never taught that before in Defense, Dad?" asked Harry.

"'Cause half our Defense teachers sucked big time," Draco interjected.

"Lupin didn't," Harry objected. "And Moody's pretty cool."

"Humph!" Draco snorted. "Cool if your name's not Malfoy."

"What do you mean, son?"

"Nothing," Draco said swiftly, not wanting to seem like a whiny brat.

"Professor Moody was ragging on him in class, saying he knew dark curses and stuff since Lucius was a Death Eater."

Draco glowered at his brother. "Harry, bloody hell! Mind your own business."

"Boys, enough! Draco, I will speak to Professor Moody and explain your situation. He has no call to paint you with your father's brush. But he is old and set in his ways and too used to hunting down dark wizards, not teaching children. He thinks that children inherit their parents' traits. He forgets we're not dragons."

"Please, Dad. Don't talk to him. I'm fine." Draco protested.

"Draco, if a teacher is treating you unfairly—" Severus began.

"I can handle it, Dad. Don't listen to Harry."

Severus gave him a hard look. "Very well. I shall let it go . . .this time. But if it happens again, or he starts grading you unfairly, let me know and I shall confront him."

Draco nodded, his face flushing. Then he kicked off his shoes and began to do the elementary warm-up exercises Severus had taught them for _kin-sa-dor_, still seething at Harry. He knew his brother meant well, but there were certain things you just didn't tell your father.

Harry didn't say anything, but he was sorry he had embarrassed his brother. He hadn't meant to, but he felt Severus should know about Moody. For some reason, Moody made him a tad bit uneasy, despite the fact that much of his teaching made sense. He moved over opposite his brother and began stretching also.

"To answer your question, Harry, the reason why no Defense teacher has taught you that spell is because they wouldn't have known of it. It is a fae spell, taught to me by Sarai. It has saved my life many times in duels with Death Eaters." Severus told them.

He waved his wand and activated one of the practice dummies. It came forward, false wand in hand, ready to do battle.

"Watch closely now."

The dummy cast a Freezing Jinx at Snape.

Severus made a circular gesture with his wand and said, "_Reflectiva Magicka!"_

The hex flew towards the Potions Master, only to be deflected by a mirror bright shield that encased Severus like a globe. The spell bounced off and struck the dummy, who fell down, acknowledging a hit.

"Were you watching?" Severus demanded a second later. He was using his drill sergeant tone.

"Yes, sir!" chorused the two boys.

"Good. On your feet and let's see you cast it."

The dummy had gotten back to its feet also and waited until Severus sent it against the two boys.

Neither one managed the counter correctly the first time. As a reminder, the dummy shot Stinging Hexes at them and made them wince. But the second time they managed to cast it and deflect most of the Happy Feet Jinx the dummy cast at them back upon it.

"Better. Keep practicing," Severus urged.

After ten times he made them practice the spell against himself and then each other, until both boys were staggering and exhausted. Only then did he call a halt. "We'll practice more on Sunday. You both did well for beginners." He gave them each a brief hug and then said, "Good night. I will see you tomorrow."

"Night, Dad," Harry called as he started to leave, forgetting he was still in his socks.

"Harry, you're forgetting something," Severus reminded.

"Like what?"

"Look at your feet, duh!" Draco snickered.

Harry did, then he flushed. "Oh. Right. Shoes." He summoned them and put them on.

Then he continued on to Gryffindor Tower, Smidgen flying sentry over his shoulder.

Draco also bid Severus goodnight, but they walked back to the Slytherin portrait hole together.

* * * * * *

The next morning, Harry received a copy of the _Daily Prophet _from Frost, as did Hermione from Athena and Ron from Zephyr. Hedwig's fledglings were doing very well with their post duties and both young wizards adored their owlets very much. Hermione had once told Harry and Ron that Athena was so smart she could probably teach her to speak someday.

Ron had started laughing and said, "Like witch, like owl, I guess."

Hermione couldn't dispute that, so she settled for sniffing loftily.

Harry stroked Frost, she was nearly Hedwig's double in looks and was very bright and had a sweet temperament besides. "Thank you, Frosty," he smiled at her and gave her some toast off of his plate.

Across the hall, he saw her brother, Phantom, bringing the paper and a package to Severus. Phantom had been a gift to the Potions Master from his sons, and was the silent flyer and the most graceful of the four owlets. He was a dark gray color with white markings resembling S's on his chest and wings.

Athena and Zephyr were both a mottled gray with white spots.

Looking up from Frost, who was nibbling at some bacon on his plate, Harry saw Stormrider land on Draco's shoulder, a copy of the _Prophet_ in his beak. It looked like everyone wanted to read the morning issue and Harry knew why. Skeeter's interviews of the four champions were in this issue.

Harry unfolded his copy and began to read it. Sure enough, in the righthand corner of the first page was Rita's byline and the first article about Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum. A picture of Krum in his Quidditch uniform waved and grinned at Harry.

Harry made a face at the other, skimmed the interview, then flipped the page over to see what else Rita had said. What he read nearly caused him to fall out of his chair in shock.

"Bloody damn _hell_!" he swore.

Hermione flashed him a disapproving look. "Harry, really? Must you swear like Ronald now?"

"Take a look at page two and you'll see why I'm swearing," Harry said sharply.

Hermione did and gasped. "Oh, Harry! How could she write such lies?"

For there, splashed across the page in stark black and white print for the world to see was the headline **_Boy-Who-Lives Declared Surprise Champion! Potion Master's Son to Compete in Triwizard Tournament Against All Odds!_**

_Harry Albus Snape, son of Potions Master Severus Snape, was declared a surprise entry by the Goblet of Fire. Rumors abound as to how the 14-year-old managed to hoodwink the Goblet into accepting him as a candidate, as he is not even of age to compete. It is rumored that he had the help of an older wizard. He has confided to me that he wishes to compete in order to impress his father with his bravery and intelligence and also to help out his father, who is in financially troubled straits since adopting Draco Malfoy and taking in Harry over the summer. The Snape family lives in a decrepit manor inherited from Professor Snape's maternal grandparents, and requires many Galleons to restore and run at optimum efficiency. Snape, never a wealthy man, is in sore need of that two thousand Galleon prize . . ._

"That-that-lying, scummy, no good harpy!" Harry exploded. "I never told her that! Never! I said just the opposite!" He slammed his fist on the table. "My father's gonna kill me!"

Katie rose and came over to where Harry was sitting down the table and said gently, "Don't get yourself all worked up, Harry. Anyone who knows you knows you'd never put your name in there on purpose and they all know Professor Snape is hardly a charity case."

Harry bit his lip. "You and I know that, but half the school takes what's written here as truth. And now they'll all be talking about us. Damn Rita Skeeter! Where does she get off printing such trash?"

"She's a journalist. She prints what people _want_ to hear, not the truth," Katie sighed, giving Harry's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Just tell your dad the truth, he'll believe you."

"I hope so," Harry said glumly. "Else my arse is grass and my dad's the lawn mower." He glanced over at Draco and saw the Slytherin was glaring at the paper like he wished it would self-combust.

Ron winced. "Well, if I were you, Harry, I'd send a note or something over real quick. Because the professor looks ready to tear strips off somebody." He jerked his head up at the staff table.

Harry slid his gaze up and gulped.

Severus had a black scowl on his face and his eyes were blazing like two coals.

Definitely _not_ a good sign.

Severus was furious. He had known that Skeeter was an unscrupulous columnist, only out for the story of the moment, and a sensationalist to boot, but even he never thought she would go this far. The whole article was nothing but fabrication with a few facts scattered here and there. And how _dare_ she say he was _financially troubled_! He made better money now than when he had first started and since he was no longer spying, he was able to concentrate more upon brewing potions for specific wizards individually and charging top prices.

He eyed his colleagues furtively and prayed none of them were stupid enough to question him about the veracity of the article. He was in no mood to discuss his personal life.

He finished his tea, toast, and sausage and rose, ready to return to his lab to set up for the morning classes.

"Severus, a moment, if you please," Dumbledore called.

Severus gritted his teeth. "Yes, Headmaster?"

"Come with me, my boy." Dumbledore had that infernal twinkle in his eyes again, and that always meant trouble, or at the least a discussion Severus did not want to participate in.

"I need to prepare for my class," the Potions Master began.

"Yes, yes, this will only take a minute." Dumbledore said, and a reluctant Potions Master followed him to his office.

As soon as the door had shut behind him, Severus started to dissuade Albus about what he had read in the _Prophet_. "Albus, if this is about that scurrilous article—"

"Now, Severus, there is no need to be ashamed if you are having . . .ah . . .monetary problems. I shall gladly increase your salary."

"Headmaster, that is _not_ necessary—"

"Severus, my boy, we have all been in those straits before, and you should not let pride get in the way of feeding your children," Albus began gently. "How much of a raise do you feel is necessary?"

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself not to snap at Albus, who was only misinformed. "Albus, please stop. I assure you, I have plenty of money in my vault, more than enough to support my family. She . . .that . . .sensationalist bitch—please excuse my language—wrote nothing but lies in that piece. I am not living in a ruin, or penniless, and my current salary is more than adequate for my needs. You paid me well for my duties for the Order and I am very thrifty. I know how to save my money."

"I know, my boy, but some extra never hurts," Albus said, gently laying a hand upon his shoulder.

Severus sighed. "You're still convinced I am destitute, are you, old fox?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I believe you, Severus. No need to get all worked up and defensive. But I think you deserve a raise nevertheless. You have worked tirelessly for me and never once demanded an advance."

"Because I never needed one. I am perfectly content with what I make," Severus protested irritably. _Damn that Skeeter woman! I wish I could Silence her and her quill, the miserable gossipy hag! Now look what she's started. I ought to write to the editor and demand she retract the article because it's slandering my Name._

Albus ignored his employee's angry sputtering and moved over to his desk and wrote something on a piece of parchment. "There! I have given you an extra fifty Galleons per week."

"Albus, for the love of Merlin!" Severus exploded.

"Hush, Severus. It's done. Now don't make a fuss, but consider it a belated birthday present—several years worth, if you must." The Headmaster was chuckling. "As well as a congratulations on your two fine sons. Better late than never, eh?"

"Albus, you are too much!"

"Indeed. Now, off you go, I do believe you said you needed to prepare for your class?"

Severus grumbled under his breath about murdering a certain reporter, then he left the office, having been outmaneuvered neatly to his chagrin by a meddling old coot.

* * * * * *

Harry ran as quickly as he could down to the dungeons, hoping to catch Severus inbetween classes in a free moment, so he could explain to his father about the article.

Severus glanced up when Harry appeared in the doorway, bent over and panting. "Harry, what is it? Are you sick? Is Draco all right?"

"We're fine, Dad. It's just . . .the paper this morning . . ."

Severus frowned. "Yes, that wretched harpy's article. . ."

"Dad, I _never_ said any of those things. I told her the exact opposite and she just ignored me and wrote what her dumb quill dictated."

"What do you mean?"

"She had a green quill that wrote things down while we talked . . .a Quick Quotes Quill, I think it was called."

"Ah. An enchanted quill for lazy writers," Snape sneered. "Figures. Don't worry too much, Harry. She's known for her blather. If people believed half of what she's written they'd be crazy."

"She wrote that Prince Manor is a tumbledown ruin in need of major repair!" Harry cried angrily, one hand clutching his Medallion of Inheritance. "How dare she talk like that about my home? It's beautiful, the best home anyone could ask for."

Severus chuckled at how defensive Harry was over his beloved manor. Then again, as the heir, he was tied to the land and would feel very strongly about anyone badmouthing it. He was angry as well, but more adept at hiding it. "That is very true, son. There is no place like our home. Skeeter wouldn't know the difference between truth and a lie if she were given Veritaserum."

"That's for sure! I'm sorry, Dad."

"You have no need to apologize, Harry. That Skeeter woman ought to be apologizing on her knees for writing such trash." Severus sighed and looked at the clock on the wall. "It's almost time for you to get to class, Harry. Off with you now."

Harry allowed himself to be shooed out the door and then he headed to Transfiguration, wishing McGonagall would teach him a spell to transfigure a person into an inanimate object, like a telephone. Now wouldn't _that_ be irony?

* * * * * *

_Saturday, 6:30 AM:_

The ten fourth-year Slytherins, including Draco, were yawning and rubbing their eyes when they filed into Snape's office that Saturday morning. All of them were sleepy and more than a few were irritable and apprehensive. They all knew their Head had a short fuse and had been plenty riled at them for starting a brawl in the corridor. Some of them also recalled how Pansy had been punished with detentions and also Nott and Avery. _Those_ two were trembling in their trainers, for this was now the third time they had brought the wrath of their Potions Master down upon their own heads.

All of them stood in a row before Snape's desk, standing at attention, waiting for their teacher to come in.

Severus, who was in his lab adjacent to the office, and had a concealed window magicked to look like a wall, could see them all clearly. He made them stand and stew for several minutes, watching them shift from foot to foot and squirm guiltily. He knew that waiting scared the little brats senseless even worse than a lecture, because then they had time to think up possible punishments and worry over what would happen to them.

Finally he took pity upon them and entered the room from the connecting laboratory door, his black cloak billowing, his face set in rigid and stern disapproval. Several of the Slytherins blanched, but none of them moved. And all of them kept their eyes at half mast and a few were staring at the floor.

Snape paced to his desk and stood with his arms folded. He had learned over the years that such a posture served to intimidate and he used his height and reputation to his advantage. "So. It would seem all of you have forgotten Slytherin House Rule Number One, correct?"

A chorus of, "Yes, sir," echoed through the office.

"Would any of you like to tell me what the number one rule is?"

Unsurprisingly, Draco was the only one who volunteered. The others were either too sleepy or too frightened.

Stifling a yawn, his son replied, "The number one rule of Slytherin House is to present a united front, which means no quarreling with each other in public, sir."

"Correct, Malfoy. You should have all learned that rule at the end of your first year of Hogwarts. But it would seem you have forgotten it and need a reminder." He scowled ferociously at them and they all hung their heads. "I cannot tell you how disappointed and disgusted I am at your behavior. Whatever the provocation, you have no excuse for drawing wands and hexing one another. None! Your lack of self-discipline is appalling. I expected better of all of you. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

There was silence, then Draco said, "Sorry, sir."

The others followed suit.

"Good, you ought to be. Since it seems you enjoy fighting amongst yourselves like a bunch of hotheaded impulsive Gryffindors, your detention will reflect that."

Draco paled. There was something about the way Snape said that . . ._Oh, crap. He's using his Sergeant Snape voice and that is really NOT good._ That was the way Harry and he described Severus when he was going to give them a workout that would make them think they had joined the bloody army.

The others looked confused. "Sir?" quavered Millicent. "What are we going to be doing?"

Severus smirked evilly. "Miss Bulstrode, you are going to be dueling until you cannot stand up and your wands are falling out of your hands. Then we shall see if you think it an acceptable response to a classmate's taunts. Come with me."

He stood and swept towards the door.

They followed, still not understanding what he had planned for them. Except for Draco, who was cursing himself for an impulsive idiot the whole way out of the dungeon and out of the castle.

Snape halted just beyond the courtyard and waved his wand, Transfiguring his clothing into black exercise clothing. The Slytherins gaped at him in shock. He pointed his wand at each of them, and their uniforms became clothing suitable to work out in. "Now then. First you will all run ten laps about the castle perimeter. Run, not walk! Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir!" they responded.

"Is he _serious_?" whined Avery.

Severus marched up to him and got right in his face, snarling, "Avery, you doubt me? Start running, and now you get one lap extra for questioning me. Well? Why are you all standing about like imbeciles? Move!"

All of them jumped and Draco began to jog in a measured pace about the castle. He knew better than to start running full out, because then he would tire too quickly and end up throwing up. Blaise followed, as did Millicent, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Severus waited until the last of his Slytherins had begun to run before loping alongside the group, making sure everyone was trying his or her best and not loafing about. Ten laps was a decent exercise for them, a warm-up for him, who had been conditioned long ago while learning _kin-sa-dor_. He kept a sharp eye out for stragglers and bellowed at Nott and Avery for talking and not running.

"Do you want another lap, mister?"

Avery panted and groaned, "No, sir, professor!"

"Then quit flapping your jaw and move your arse! Now!"

Draco winced, for though Snape was not particularly loud, his tone snapped and crackled like a whip. He kept his head down and just concentrated on running. Around and around and around. His legs were aching and burning by the sixth lap and from the sounds behind him, his Housemates were starting to get winded and achy too.

"Ohh! My feet are killing me."

"How much longer do we have to run?"

"Can't breathe! My throat's closing up."

"Quit whining and just run." Snape growled, pacing them effortlessly.

Several of his students shot him glances of annoyance and amazement, for they did not know he could run so quickly and so long.

But his long legs ate up the distance and he was not even breathing hard. He counted off the laps as they were completed.

Draco hid a proud grin. He knew that Severus was in such good shape because of his _kin-sa-dor_ training. He himself was starting to breathe hard, but not enough to complain about it. He had learned the hard way not to whine during Snape's training sessions.

By the time Severus called a halt, his Slytherins were staggering and bent over, groaning at how tired they were. He allowed them a five minute rest before growling, "Up, you lazy serpents! You're not done yet, not by a long shot. Let's go. Up to the seventh floor, jog it. Move!"

They did, whining under their breath.

"Damn drill sergeant!"

"This really sucks!"

Upon reaching the Room of Requirement, Severus opened the door and led them inside.

Draco recognized the set-up as the same one he and Harry had entered a few nights past. The room was bare except for ten practice dummies lined up against the wall.

"Now then, children. Here are your opponents. They are animated to respond as if they were wizards against any hex or curse you cast. They will attack and defend until you score an incapacitating hit upon them or you are defeated."

"They'll cast real spells at us?" asked Blaise.

"No, Mr. Zabini. They will be illusions, except for the minor hexes. The most they will do is cast a Stinging Hex upon you. _But_ you will feel as if a hex or curse hit you."

He waved his wand at the dummies, activating them. "Begin!"

Snape stepped off to the side as the students began casting at their mock opponents.

They soon discovered that fighting the practice dummies was harder, much harder, than they anticipated. The dummies were trained to push their opponents, to make them feel like they'd been in a real duel, and they did this surprisingly well.

Out of all of them, only Draco and Goyle managed to defeat their dummy in about six minutes. The rest of them were scrambling for cover and yelping as the dummies cast various hexes upon them. When they faltered or miscast a jinx, the dummies cast Stinging Hexes upon them. And while the Stinging Hexes weren't truly harmful, they were unpleasant and made your skin throb afterwards.

Severus critiqued them as they fought, moving about and lecturing when necessary. His tongue was razor sharp and as he promised, he made his Slytherins fight until they were exhausted and their wands were practically falling out of their fingers.

At the end of two and a half hours they were ready to drop and at last Snape called a halt.

"I trust you have learned your lesson and will think before you pull a wand next time?" he inquired, his voice silky with sarcasm.

All of them nodded, too tired to see straight, panting and dripping with sweat.

He waved his wand and their exercise clothing was transfigured back into their robes and uniforms.

"Very well. You are dismissed."

They trooped out of the room, some limping from pulled muscles, others complaining of how tired they were or how much their head hurt. One thing they had all learned well and that was to never ever test Severus Snape in that fashion again.

* * * * * *

The next morning, Draco was so sore he could hardly move, and he was glad this was Sunday and he could sleep in. Until he recalled he had Quidditch practice and he forced himself to crawl out of bed and into the shower. The rest of the boys were still asleep, except for Greg and Vince, who were Beaters and also had to get up.

"Merlin, but I think I'm going to need a cane," whimpered Vince, tottering to the bathroom. "I feel as stiff as my great-uncle Morris. And he's like a hundred! Ohh!"

"Take a long hot shower," Draco advised. "Meet you in the hall for breakfast."

At breakfast he saw Harry, sitting alone at the Gryffindor table, since he was the only one of his House awake this morning. Draco walked over and sat down next to him. "Hey, Harry."

"Hi. You look like hell, dragon," Harry muttered. "What did Dad do to you?"

"He made us all run ten laps around the castle and then he gave us one of his drill sergeant training sessions. I feel like a dragon stomped me into the ground and then some."

"Oh. Poor you."

"Tell me about it." Draco grimaced and picked up a cup of tea that had appeared in front of him. "I swear, Harry, don't ever get on his bad side like that." He put a hand to the small of his back, grimacing. "I'm lucky I can walk after yesterday morning. And I'm in pretty good condition and had some idea of what to expect. Just wait till you see the others. Especially Nott and Avery. Those boneheads kept whining and saying how unfair he was and he gave them extra laps and time with the dummies for being whiny brats. They're going to be so stiff it'll be a miracle if they can get out of bed."

"Ouch! I should feel sorry for them, but after what they've pulled . . .they sort of deserve it," Harry said, biting into his bacon and egg sandwich. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, recalling the time Snape had dueled Lockhart and had blown the braggart away in seconds. It was then that Harry got a brilliant idea.

"Ummm . . .Draco?"

"What?" the other growled grumpily.

"I was thinking, you know how we're always complaining that sometimes Dad doesn't have time to teach us defense because of his classes? And Moody only teaches us theory and hardly ever lets us practice for real?"

Draco yawned and gulped more tea. "Yeah? So?"

"So . . .what if we revived the Dueling Club?"

Draco stared at him. "You mean that pathetic excuse for a club Lockhart made us join in second year?"

"Yes, but ours won't be pathetic. We could ask Dumbledore for permission and explain we want to have a new club to . . ." Harry chewed his lower lip. " . . .err, to foster interHouse relations or whatever. We could allow anyone who wanted to from all the Houses to join and teach them what we know about defense. What do you think?"

"I think you're . . .bloody brilliant!" Draco said. "Sometimes, little brother, you totally amaze me. But we have to have clear-cut rules and penalties if they break them. We'll draw up a contract and if someone breaks any of the major rules, out their arse goes."

They spent the rest of breakfast discussing what rules the club should have and when Draco rose to go and play Quidditch, Harry said he would make his way to Dumbledore's office and tell him about their idea.

* * * * * *

Dumbledore was delighted at the two brothers' ingenuity and agreed wholeheartedly with the re-opening of the Dueling Club.

Harry recruited Hermione and Katie to make a flyer advertising the new club and they did a supurb job. Filch posted it in the Entrance Hall, where everyone could see it.

**Attention Students of All Houses!**

**The Dueling Club Will Re-Open as **

**Of**

**Wednesday Night**

**All Students Welcome to Participate!**

**Time: 7 PM**

**Place: the Great Hall**

**Must be willing to abide by a contract and**

**Should inform House Head and Prefects**

**Learn Defense Like Never Before!**

**Hosted by Draco Malfoy and Harry Snape**

They posted the flyer on Sunday night.

By Wednesday they had twenty-five students wanting to be members, including Neville, Ron, Hermione, Katie, and Ginny from Gryffindor, Luna, Cho Chang, Padma Patil, and Terry Boot from Ravenclaw, Justin, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Derek Maisley from Hufflepuff, and Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Millicent, Marcus Flint, and Shannon Gagnon from Slytherin.

Harry was amazed at the response his little idea had received, and was proud and happy that their Dueling Club was off to such a good start. Draco and he had already begun planning what spells they were going to teach and decided the best way to handle that many students was to pair them off in groups.

Both Phil and Severus were surprised at the two boys' dedication and had told them they would be available if they wished to ask them for advice on how to teach defensive spells beyond the usual Expelliarmus.

"Thanks, but I think we've got a handle on it so far," Harry said. "And it'll be good practice for me for the tournament. The first task is coming up."

"Yes. In two weeks," Severus agreed. "In the meantime, I think this would be a good opportunity for you two to brush up on your combat skills."

"I agree," Phil said, they were all inside Snape's office. "Practice makes perfect."

The two boys groaned at the old saying. But they were excited for their first session and hoped that all would go well.

"Dad, can we borrow some of your practice dummies from the Room of Requirement?" Harry asked.

"You may," Severus consented. "I will have to show you how to activate them and deactivate them, however."

He led his sons up to the seventh floor and into the secret room.

* * * * * *

At seven o'clock sharp, Draco and Harry were in the Great Hall. They had moved all the tables and benches against the walls and had a large open area to work in. They were standing up on the dais where the staff table was. Next to them were five dummies and a large piece of parchment covered the table. Written on it were the words _Members of the New and Improved Dueling Club_ and next to it was a quill and ink.

Posted upon a large free-standing chalkboard was a list of rules that all the members had to agree to before they would be allowed into the club. The number one rule was no using their lessons to hex or injure any students outside of the club. The number two rule was that everyone had to obey Harry and Draco just as they did any other teacher at school. Number three stated that all participants must get along with each other for the duration of the sessions, cooperation was a must. Four stated that no Unforgivables or truly dangerous hexes would be cast or taught here, this was strictly for self defense. Five was an agreement to stop immediately if their instructors thought they were injured too badly to continue or their magical reserves were weakening. The penalty for breaking any of those rules would be immediate dismissal from the club, no excuses.

"Once you sign your name to the scroll on the table, you'll be bound by the rules on the board, just as if you swore upon your Wizard's Honor," Harry said seriously. "So read them all over carefully and think about whether or not you can follow them _before_ you put the quill to the parchment and write your name. And just so you know, these are the same rules my father makes Draco and I follow when he tutors us in Defense. We want this to be a fun learning experience for everyone, but also a safe one."

"That's fair," Katie said, and she scanned the rules, then signed her name to the scroll with a flourish.

"How do you know when our magical reserves are low?" asked Hannah.

"Professor Snape taught us a monitoring charm," Draco answered. "We'll cast it at the beginning of each session."

"Are you gonna make us run laps too?" groaned Millicent.

Draco chuckled. "Maybe. You know, running laps helps build up stamina, and that can really help during a duel."

All the Slytherins groaned and the Gryffindors looked smug. Word had gotten around the school about their detention with Snape.

"Just as long as you don't start barking orders at us like your drill sergeant father, Malfoy," warned Flint.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Flint, if you sign this you agree to obey me and I'll order you about however I see fit. I'm your instructor, you don't dictate policy to me."

"Or me." Harry added.

The two brothers stood shoulder to shoulder, expressions of determination and sternness upon their faces, like commanders of an army.

After a moment, Flint nodded grudgingly and dropped his eyes.

One by one, the students came up and signed their names to the parchment.

"We'll meet here every week on Wednesdays, unless there's some reason why we can't," Harry continued. "If the times change or the days, we'll post a notice in the Entrance Hall."

"Now, we want you all to count off, starting with one," Draco said. "When you get to five, stop and start with one again. Remember your number, because that's how we're going to sort you."

Once everyone had been counted, Draco had everyone with the same number form a group. He made sure each group contained members of every House. Thus paired, they each received a practice dummy and dueled it one by one so Harry and Draco could see what spells each student knew.

But first, both brothers demonstrated their own knowledge of defensive magic by dueling two dummies at once, working as a team.

It was fun, and by the time they had defeated their opponents, the other students were eying them with newfound respect and admiration.

"Wow, you're good!" Ron said.

"How did you learn all those spells?" asked Ginny.

"Our father taught us," Harry answered.

"He worked our arses off," Draco added. "But it was worth it. As you'll see."

For this first session, they set the dummies on the beginner level, and watched each student carefully as they cast what defensive or offensive magic they knew. Each student had three tries to disarm or knock out the dummy before it retaliated.

The two Snapes moved around the room, offering tips and instructions on how to hold a wand, make a tighter gesture, and pronounce a spell clearly and precisely.

An hour later, everyone was panting and tired, but satisfied that they had made progress with their dueling and Harry and Draco looked at each other and grinned proudly, a heady sense of accomplishment sweeping through them.

"You did very well," Draco praised. "Next time we'll have a brief lesson on Disarming Charms and then teach you how to perform a layered Shield Charm."

"Thanks for coming. Good night." Harry added.

The rest of the students filed out, all save for Harry and Draco's best mates and Katie and Hermione.

"Harry, you were positively brilliant!" Katie said. "Even if you did let that walking ragbin knock me on my bum twice."

Harry chuckled. "Hey, that's how you learn." He examined her and asked, "You're not hurt, are you?"

She laughed. "Why? You gonna kiss it better?"

He blushed and muttered, "Maybe."

"Please, you two!" Ron pretended to gag. Then he turned and saw Draco embracing Hermione. "Ahh! Get a room!" He looked over at Crabbe and Goyle. "How can you stand it? They're like . . .glued together."

Crabbe snorted. "Jealous, Weasley?"

Ron gasped. "Err . . .no, of course not! Hermione's like my sister."

"You need to find a girl of your own," Goyle remarked. "Same as us."

Ron flushed. "How? Got any ideas?"

"Uh . . .not really, but maybe if we all put our heads together . . ." Crabbe suggested.

The three single males moved off to a corner of the room and left Draco and Hermione and Harry and Katie to their smooching. They were getting tired of feeling like spare wands and hoped between the three of them they could figure out how to get a date for the Yule Ball.

**How did you like this one? **

**Next: The first task is revealed . . .and it's not what you think!**


	17. Myths Alive!

**Myths Alive!**

Between his classes, homework, and trying to dodge Rita Skeeter, who was on an interview kick, Harry barely had time to eat or sleep, and felt as if he were in a perpetual state of exhaustion. A dozen times a day, Hermione and Ron asked if he were okay, until he snapped at them to leave him alone. So they did, but they then recruited Draco and Katie to keep an eye on him, reasoning that they would be ones that he could not refuse if they asked him what was wrong.

"There's nothing _wrong_ with me, Draco." Harry replied irritably when his brother had asked him what was the matter after Charms one afternoon. "I'm just . . .a little tired."

But Draco, who had seen Harry at his worst, after the horrific nightmares back in Prince Manor, was not fooled. He had seen his brother play heroic Spartan imbecile before. "You're not sleeping right, are you?"

"I never said that," hissed his brother, brushing his silky black hair from his eyes. He was letting it grow longer, now that it was not so untamable, and the new style emphasized his resemblance to his father ever further.

"You didn't have to," Draco said smugly. "Why don't you go ask Dad for a Sleeping Draught?"

"I _told_ you, I'm _fine_."

"Yeah, so fine you wake up tired and sleep through half your classes."

"I do not!"

"Do so."

"How would you know?"

"One, I saw you doing it in Charms with my own eyes. And two, Hermione told me."

Harry huffed and glanced away.

Draco crossed his arms over his chest, doing a good imitation of their father. "Little brother, are you going to be sensible and take a Sleeping Draught or am I going to have to inform the old man?"

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked insolently.

Draco slugged him playfully in the shoulder. "No, Dad, you half-wit."

Harry glared at him. "What happened to the pact you and I made?"

"What one was that?"

"The one where we agreed to not tell Dad anything about our personal lives unless it was a matter of life and death."

"Listen, Harry, I'm normally not a tell-tale, but if you don't get enough sleep and aren't well-rested for the tournament, it could kill you." Draco said seriously. "People have died before competing in this. And you'll need to be at your peak in order to survive. So, for the love of Merlin, take a Sleeping Draught. You can get one from Pomfrey."

"And then she'll ask Dad what's wrong and why I needed one and he'll flip."

"No, she won't. Patient confidentiality."

"I thought that only applied to Healers."

"Pomfrey _is_ a Healer, dunderhead!"

"Oh." Now Harry felt stupid.

"Or, if you don't want to do that, you could always ask Uncle Phil to send you to sleep using his vampire gaze. He did that to me when Pansy cursed me."

Harry sighed. "Then I'd have to explain to _him_ what's bothering me."

"Harry, mind if I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"What _is_ bothering you?"

Harry bit his lip. "All the publicity. I really hate it. Drives me nuts. I feel like I'm being watched all the time, and even when I don't say anything, Skeeter still finds things to write about me. Yesterday she interviewed one of the Creevy kids and he told her about Katie and me, and next thing I know I've got the front page again."

"I know, it's rough." Draco said sympathetically. "It was that way for me too after the trial. All these reporters wanting to know how I felt, what I thought, they tried everything they could think of to get me to talk to them, and when I refused, they just made up stuff. Skeeter tried to interview me the other day."

Harry eyed his brother warily. "What did you say?"

"That my dad always said not to talk to strangers," Draco grinned. "Then I walked off."

Harry burst out laughing. "That was brilliant!"

"That's me. Anything else?"

"Well, of course I'm nervous about the tournament. I keep imagining all sorts of nasty things about the first task and wonder if I'll be up to it."

"Hmm. I think you'll be able to complete whatever they throw at you, Harry. You're strong in magic and you know things no other student here does. Like _kin-sa-dor_. And swordplay. And we've been practicing Defense with the dueling club and dad almost every night this week. Don't sweat it, little brother. You'll be fine. You're a Snape, and you're the best wizard in the tournament."

Draco's words made him feel ten times better. "Thanks, Dragon."

"Anytime, Harry. Now come on, before we miss lunch."

Harry took Draco's advice and asked Madame Pomfrey for a Sleeping Draught. She gave it to him without asking any awkward questions, to his vast relief. But his good mood didn't last long. He started to look at the way the other champions were handling the pressure and felt he was sorely lacking in composure.

Fleur acted as if all this were beneath her, she was haughty and serene. Cedric took everything in stride, and never seemed to mind the crowds of people about him. And Krum lapped up the attention, posing for shots and agreeing to any and all interviews, he was used to such attention because he was a big Quidditch star.

Harry wondered if it was just not in his nature to enjoy being in the limelight. Like his father, there were things in his past that he did not want anyone to discover, and he liked his privacy. That Skeeter woman was like a leech, sucking him dry to the marrow, trying to delve into the darkest parts of his past.

Only the time spent with his family at night or Katie during the afternoon seemed to relieve the pressure upon him. With his family he could just be himself and it was the same with Katie. He loved being with the Gryffindor Chaser because she never asked him about the tournament, what he expected or if he were nervous. She was sensitive to his moods and when he was with her he could leave the world behind and just enjoy himself.

They could often be found playing about on their brooms on the Quidditch pitch, he playing her position of Chaser and she of Seeker for variety, laughing and joking. Harry soon learned not to underestimate her, for she had the Gryffindor daring in full measure, and could do maneuvers that made his hair stand on end.

"Come on, fly-boy, beat this!" was her battlecry, and Harry did his best to try.

It was fun competing with her for the fun of it, without worrying about scoring or the Quidditch Cup. He had never realized just how much fun it was to simply play for the love of the game until then.

And even better than that was taking her in his arms afterwards and kissing her breathless. She loved to play with his hair, running her fingers through the silky strands. "You're so sexy, Harry Snape," she would purr and he would laugh and kiss her pert nose.

Once he caught Krum staring at them after one such snogging session and it made him feel uncomfortable—defensive and prickly. "What are you looking at?"

Krum had shrugged and smiled insolently. "Vell, it seems you are hardly old enough to date, and yet you have a girl. I vas wondering how it vas possible."

Before Harry could reply, Katie did so. "It's possible because Harry's not a glory seeking prat like you, Krum." Then she took her boyfriend by the arm and strode off towards the castle.

Harry was grinning the whole way. "I can't believe you told him off that way!"

"Why? I call them like I see them, and he's so full of himself I'm surprised he doesn't blow up like a balloon and explode. Guess that's what happens when you let fame go to your head."

"Then it doesn't bother you that he's this big Quidditch star and you just insulted him to his face?"

"No. He might be good at flying, but his attitude stinks. I hope you kick his arse when the tournament starts, Harry. C'mon, fly boy, I have to study for my Advanced potions and I need someone to quiz me."

"At the back of the library?"

"Yes. That's the quietest spot."

After going back to their dorm to put away their brooms and get Katie's potions text, they headed off to the library.

* * * * * *

Meanwhile, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle were sitting in the shadow of Hagrid's hut, just beyond the gamekeeper's pumpkin patch, studying a book Ron had snitched from the twins titled _A Guy's Guide to Gaining a Beautiful Girlfriend._ It suggested several ways that an awkward or shy or totally clueless boy might be able to snag a pretty girl, or any girl that caught his fancy.

"All right. Now what does it say about talking to her?" Crabbe asked Ron, whose turn it was to read a chapter. "How can you quit not being able to speak when you see her? Or sound like a blithering idiot?"

"I dunno," Ron said.

"Read the _book_, Weasley, you dolt!" cried Goyle.

"Oh. Right." Ron blushed. "Uh . . .it says to think about what you want to say before you say it. That way you won't trip over your words. Don't stare at her for too long, and let her start talking about something first and then reply to it, that way you won't feel awkward since you have something to talk about. Tell her she's pretty or compliment her in some way, but don't make statements that are untrue. Girls hate liars."

"Okay . . .I think I can remember that," Goyle said, a bit uncertainly.

"Does it say anything about stuff girls like to get from you?" asked Crabbe.

"Uh . . let me see . . " Ron flipped the pages.

They discovered that most girls like simple and honest gifts, like flowers, or a poem, or some kind of cute stuffed animal, or maybe a dinner out in some restaurant. A book if she liked to read, some jewelry if she liked that. Try and find a gift that fit her interests.

"When introducing yourself to a girl for the first time . . .look her in the eye and speak naturally. Smile and tell her your name," Goyle read the next chapter.

"That doesn't sound too hard," Ron said, but he was immediately assailed with doubts. What if he went to introduce himself to the girl of his dreams and he ended up forgetting his name because he was so awed by her beauty. Had that ever happened before? He could see it happening to him.

"Okay. Now we just need to find some girls." Crabbe stated. "Where do we look?"

Ron and Goyle exchanged mutual glances of exasperation. "Well, Vince, since we're not in a monastery, I'd say there are plenty of girls right here." Goyle said.

"And don't forget, there are some new girls here from that fancy French school," Ron reminded them. "And you know what they say about French women. They're hot!"

"Aye, that Fleur is part veela." Crabbe said. "Sweet Merlin! But she would never look twice at a bloke like me."

The others agreed glumly that the same was true for them.

"But it can't hurt to look, now can it?" Ron said.

They stood up, brushing the grass and leaves off their robes and went to walk back towards the castle, where they found a bunch of Beauxbatons girls gathering at the lake.

Ron looked them over and saw a pretty blond-haired girl smiling and laughing with two other girls. He recognized her as Fleur and the other two were also quite attractive. One was a dark-haired girl with huge eyes the color of whiskey, fringed with long lashes, she was not willow-thin, but was well-rounded, as his mum liked to say. He felt his mouth go dry.

_Wow! She's really sweet looking. I like . . .I really like._

He tried to remember what the book had said about introductions, but the advice muddled in his head, and he finally just decided to act casual and say hi.

So he stuck his hands in his robes, after first casting a Neaten-Up charm over himself, that way she wouldn't notice how sweaty they were, and headed over to the lake. He whistled casually, until she glanced up and looked at him and then he stopped abruptly, making a kind of "Eeep!" noise that he tried to turn into a cough, swallowed wrong, and then ended up coughing for real.

As he struggled for air, he felt a cool hand on his back and a soft voice muttered, "Easy there. Stop fighting and just . . .breathe."

Her voice, which was like rich velvety chocolate, brought him back and he calmed enough to take a decent breath.

"Are you all right?" she said, her voice had a very faint accent, just enough to sound slightly exotic.

"Err . . .yes . . .I just . . .swallowed too fast . . umm . ."

He looked up and right into the loveliest pair of whiskey-colored eyes.

"Wow!"

She looked puzzled. "What is it?"

"You . . .your eyes . . .err . . .I mean . . .they're really . . .uh . . .interesting." As soon as he said that, he wanted to kick himself. Hard. _Idiot! You're supposed to introduce yourself before you give her a compliment._

"Oh. Yes, well, I get them from my grandfather. He was Rom."

"Rom? I thought you were French."

She giggled. "I am Breton, from Brittany, and also part Romany . . .Gypsy, you would say." She tossed her mane of nightdark curls and gave him a sweet smile.

_She **smiled** at me! At me!_He felt his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. "Oh. That's nice."

"Thanks! And you are?"

"Umm. . . I'm a Gryffindor and . . .my name is . . ." To his horror, he found he could not remember who he was. _Dear sweet Merlin! Maybe that choking fit caused brain damage! I've suffered memory loss!_ _George always said I'd lose my mind someday._ But she was looking at him, waiting for him to speak. " . . .George . . .I mean Ron . . .I'm Ron Weasley." He managed to take his hand out of his pocket, give her a smile that he was sure made him look like a sick pig, and said, "Pleased to meet you . . ."

"Zara." She replied, taking his hand. "Zara Racette. I am happy to make your acquaintance, Ron. Or is it George?"

"N-No. George is my brother. I just . . . was thinking about him before . . .I mean . . .just ignore me, I'm babbling."

"Not at all. I find you quite . . .how do you say it . . .ah . . .charming. Yes?"

He nearly swallowed his tongue. "You . . ._do_?"

"_Oui._ Very much so . . .and cute as well!"

"R-really? Well, I think you are too." He blushed. "Uh . . .what year are you?"

"How old am I?"

"Yes."

"I am fourteen."

"Me too!" He couldn't believe how lucky he was. He was actually talking to a girl and she was the same age and actually thought he was cute!

She looked over at Crabbe and Goyle, who were hovering like immense brids of prey further back. "Who are your friends?"

"Uh . . .they're Vince Crabbe and Greg Goyle. They're uh . . .sort of shy." He nearly hit himself in the forehead. _Good going, Weasley! Now they're going to kill you!_

But Zara laughed, not unkindly. "Oh? Then perhaps Gabrielle Marchant and Jeannette Arnaud could help them, _oui_?" Then she called over two more girls, a sweet-looking golden-haired one and an auburn-haired perky one and whispered to them. In two minutes flat, the girls had gone up to Crabbe and Goyle and introduced themselves.

_Wow! It really worked!_ Ron beamed, feeling like he was floating on air. "Uh, Zara? Would you . . .would you like to go to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer?"

"Hogsmeade? You mean the village beyond the castle?"

"Yeah. There's a place called _The Three Broomsticks_ there. They serve the best drinks there—hot and cold. And also have great fish and chips and sausage and onions. Would you . . .like to come?"

"_Bien sur!" _she exclaimed_._ "It will be . . .how you say . . .an adventoor, yes?"

"It sure will!" Ron said, and he gave her his most dazzling smile. _A date! I finally have a date! That's so . . .incredible. Now I just have to make sure I have enough Sickles and Knuts to pay for everything._ He dug into his pocket and to his relief found the ten Sickles he had won off of George betting him that Snape wouldn't take points from Gryffindor from the brawl after the fact. _Hogsmeade, here I come! With the gorgeous Gypsy Zara!_

* * * * * *

_Slytherin dormitory_

_Two nights later:_

" . . .start, cart, mart, part . . .Merlin! None of these are any good!" A frustrated Goyle threw his twentieth parchment ball across the room. "Draco, what rhymes with heart?"

Draco rolled over, picked up a shoe from beside his bed and lobbed it at his friend.

"OW!" Greg yelled. He rubbed the back of his head. "What the hell was that for?"

"Greg, just shelve the blasted poetry for now and _go to sleep_!" growled Draco. "Before I make you rhyme a word with "dead", because if you don't shut up, that's how you're going to feel in about two seconds."

"Okay, Draco. Sorry."

Draco shoved his head back under his pillow and yanked the bed hangings closed. _Merlin, but I wish they never discovered those Beauxbatons girls! It's like living with two stupid horny dogs!_ He groaned and punched his pillow, trying in vain to fall asleep. _All they do is talk about Jeannette and Gabrielle, and how they adore them. I hope I never acted that way when I first started going out with 'Mione. Otherwise I'd have hexed myself._

* * * * * *

While Draco was cursing his roommate's preoccupation with girls, Phil was tracking Karkaroff and Madame Maxime. It was unusual to see those two together and Phil had immediately become suspicious. Something was up and he was determined to find out what was going on. He trailed the two with no more noise than the wind, veiled to the max, his fangs showing briefly over his bottom lip.

They crept cautiously from the castle, looking about furtively before leaving, and then they made their way down past Hagrid's hut to a large clearing a few feet into the Forbidden Forest. Madame Maxime was panting slightly by the time they arrived.

"What is so important, Igor, that you had to pull me away from my dessert?"

"This. Take a look," the tall wizard gestured grandly with his fur-collared robe to a series of cages set in a semi-circle. In front of them were several wizards wearing the leather garments of Animal Keepers with the insignia of a paw upon their uniforms. Their organization favored human treatment for many magical creatures, even the large predators.

As the large Headmistress of Beauxbatons leaned over to peer in the cages, Philip glided around the side and took a peek at what magical creatures were inside. His violet eyes widened in shock at what he saw.

In the first cage prowled a large manticore, its scorpion tail lashing restlessly against the bars, great lion paws flexing and clawing the bottom of the roomy cage. In the cage was a raw haunch of beef, but the manticore was not interested in eating right then. It had a curiously human-like face, but its lips wrinkled back to reveal rows of gleaming fangs the size of a lion's. Bat wings rustled angrily, clearly it did not want to be confined and it snarled low in its throat warningly.

Madame Maxime got a hairsbreadth too close and the manticore roared loudly and tried to savage her with a paw.

She drew back, clutching her wand. "Savage beast!"

"Indeed. But not the worst. Come, see the others." Karkaroff smiled slightly. "These are what our champions will face two days hence. They will draw replicas from a bag to see which creature they face. That was Dumbledore's idea. Fair play." The Durmstrang wizard sneered. "Stupid old fart! The tournament is not about fair, it's about winning!"

Maxime looked concerned. "Zurely you are not pro-posing that ze cheat?"

"Bah! It's not cheating to give our champions a little edge. I'm sure Dumbledore has already told his two." Karkaroff laughed bitterly. Then he led the large witch to the next enclosure.

This one appeared more like a forest verge and it had a large glowing net over it to prevent the chimera dozing upon the rock beneath the shade of a conjured elm from escaping. The goat and lion heads were snoring loudly and the snake tail was curled about the leonine body, resting.

"A chimera! They are _tre_ terrible!"

"Yes, and it breathes fire too. A great test for a young wizard. Perhaps Potter or Diggory will draw this one."

In another cage was a huge black hound the size of a pony with glowing red eyes and jaws like a shark's. It was wearing a golden collar and it growled threateningly at the two wizards, lunging up against the bars, spittle dripping from its jaws.

"And this one?"

Phil stiffened. _How did they come by a darkhound? They are native to the Faerie Realm. Has someone been dealing with the Unseelie? For only they keep darkhounds as pets and sell them to the highest bidder. _

Darkhounds were very strong and could blend into their surroundings, but their most deadly ability was being able to teleport at will. They could only be constrained by a collar with a charm of binding or a certain kind of spell barrier. And they lived to shed blood and feast upon the remains of their victims.

Igor told her of the darkhounds with relish and had the satisfaction of seeing the big woman go pale and make a sign to avert evil.

"Come, now, Maxime! This is not even the worst of what is here. Close though."

The final enclosure was decked out like a pricy boudoir, with a large satiny cushion and curtains and a soft comforter. Coiled upon the pink cushion was a most bizarre beast. Its lower half was that of a giant snake, its upper half that of a voluptuous woman. She was humming and combing her hair out, her face relaxed as she ran the comb through. Every so often, a forked tongue slipped out between her teeth.

She looked up from her task, spied the other wizards and hissed, "Come to gawk, have you? Perhaps you should join me." She gave Igor a sultry smile, showing long fangs, though her teeth were otherwise much like his own. "Wouldn't you like that, little wizard?" she said, practically oozing charm.

Igor gulped and started to walk forward, plainly enchanted by the creature's voice. "Yes . . .yes . . " He drew nearer the cage.

Maxime grabbed him and shook him roughly, lifting him off his feet. "Snap out of it, you fool! She's bewitching you, dolt! Accursed lamia!" She shook her fist at the lamia and dragged Karkaroff away.

Phil, though he was not affected by the lamia's coercion spell, felt a shudder run through him. This was one of the deadliest creatures in both realms, a demon made flesh that lived to eat the flesh and souls of children.

_:Are they mad?:_ Smidgen blinked into view and stared in horror at the lamia. _:To summon such as that as a task? They rouse what is best left undisturbed in the lower pits of hell!:_

_Aye, dreamweaver. The lamia is a terrible opponent, even worse, in its way, as a dragon. For the lamia is immortal, and cannot be slain unless it is on its home plane. _Phil hissed, the evil aura radiating from the monster making his skin crawl.

_:But it can be banished.:_

_True. But only by a master sorcerer skilled in breaking Dark curses and the like. None of the children have that kind of experience or time to learn any. The best they can do is try and avoid her or hurt her so badly that she ceases to attack._

_:Whose idea was it to entrap these creatures?:_

_I believe the wizard called Crouch agreed to it. _

_:He is a fool then! What shall we do about this, Phil? Harry must not be allowed to face these monsters without preparation. We must warn him, even if it's against the rules.:_

_It is not, since the other two plan on doing just that. But first we must tell Severus._

Smidgen blinked away back to the dungeons and after a moment, Phil tore off running, using his vampiric speed to get to the dungeons in under two minutes.

* * * * * *

"Have they lost their bloody stinking MINDS!" Severus vented when the shimmerling and the vampire had told him what they had discovered. "A manticore, a chimera, a darkhound, and a _lamia_? Those would be dangerous tasks for an adult wizard, let alone mere children, of age or not!"

The Potions Master rose and paced his quarters, too agitated to sit still, his black robes rustling about his ankles.

"Does Albus know about this?" he paced about much like the manticore, and if he had a tail, Smidgen was sure he'd be lashing it furiously. "Of course he does," he answered his own question a moment later. "Nothing happens in the tournament without the old man's approval! Blast and damn!" he clutched the medallion under his shirt hard. The manticore, chimera, and darkhound were vicious nasty opponents and not to be taken lightly, but they could be killed. The lamia, however . . .there were few spells he knew that could thwart such a creature and of them, all of them were beyond his son's level of skill. "They are insane, expecting students to stand up to a lamia! The Devourer of All Children! What defense will they have against that?"

"Not a very good one," Phil replied grimly. "But Harry does have one advantage the others don't, Sev."

"What's that? His reckless courage?"

"No. His Amulet of Inheritance." Phil replied. "That amulet was forged in the Seelie Court, by magesmiths."

_:Yes, you are right Tall, Dark, and Sexy! The amulet protects against dark auras and such, it will protect Harry against the lamia's coercion and her hypnotic gaze.:_ Smidgen agreed.

"And what about her lightning speed, she moves like a serpent, and can also spit venom like a cobra," Severus pointed out.

"Can you make a potion that will proof against snake venom?"

"Yes, against ordinary venom, but a lamia is ten times more potent," Severus fretted. "I can only try. If I succeed, I can give some to all the participants, that will at least save them from dying from poison."

"All of them?" Phil raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, they are children, and their lives are not pawns upon a chessboard." Severus snapped. "Bloody tournament!"

"Will you tell Harry, or shall I?" asked Phil.

Severus considered. "If I am to brew the anti-venom, I need all of my free time. Plus I am not sure I could maintain my composure. Would you mind?"

"Not at all," Phil reassured. "There may even be a few sword moves I can teach him before he faces the creatures on Tuesday."

"I would be eternally grateful, Philip."

"It is no trouble, Sev. We shall discuss it tomorrow."

_:And I shall keep an eye on the others, especially Karkaroff.:_ Smidgen sent. _:I don't trust that one as far as I can spit. There is something evil and dishonorable about him.:_

"Thank you, Smidgen," Snape said sincerely. "And now, I must go and brew."

* * * * * *

"Again! Thrust with your full weight behind the blade, Harry!" Philip reprimanded, his face stern and set. "Without that you won't be able to penetrate her hide if you have to. Do it over!"

Harry sighed, wiped the sweat off his brow, and repositioned himself in front of the practice dummies, which were shaped like the different mythological creatures he would face soon. He had known that Phil could be a tough taskmaster when it was warranted, but never had he worked Harry so hard. They had been three hours in the Room of Requirement after supper and Harry was feeling utterly exhausted. But Phil had not called a halt yet and he wasn't about to disgrace himself and ask to stop. He was the heir to Prince Manor and he needed to learn to fight in order to survive (and maybe win) the Triwizard Tournament.

Phil had told him of the creatures he might face and also about Severus brewing the anti-venom. The vampire had stressed the need for Harry to be physically at his peak, alert and ready for anything. His uncle had practiced _kin-sa-dor_ maneuvers with him as well as the sword, telling him that the martial arts could be used against all the creatures if needed.

"I know they all expect you to use magic alone to defend yourself, but you have an advantage in knowing armed and unarmed combat, and you shouldn't waste it. These creatures won't hesitate to kill you, Harry, so you must play to your strengths and be ready for anything."

"Constant vigilance, like Moody says?"

"Yes. Or, as my old swordmaster used to say, watch your back, watch your sides, and for God's sake watch the damn person in front of you. Battle is a quarter skill, a quarter luck and half up to the grace of God. I have never forgotten that advice. It has saved me many times. Now I tell it to you. Learn what I teach and you will come out of there Tuesday alive and whole."

Harry took his uncle's words to heart and so did not whine when Phil ordered him to practice the thrust and parry again and again. He ached, he was tired, but that was to be expected. He knew he would feel a lot worse if a chimera breathed upon him, or a manticore stung him with its tail, or a darkhound bit him, or a lamia ripped him apart.

At last Phil called a halt, said that Harry had improved a little, and that he should go take a shower and sleep. They would have more sessions like this until Tuesday and Phil also told him about his amulet giving him protection against most dark creatures, especially demon-kind, like the lamia.

"However, that does not mean you should get cocky or overconfident, Mr. Snape. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry respectfully, then he went to put away his practice blade. "Thank you, Uncle Phil."

The vampire chuckled wickedly. "You're welcome, lad. Though I'd wager my best horse you won't be thanking me tomorrow morning. Good night, Harry."

"Night, Uncle Phil," Harry said, then he left for Gryffindor Tower.

* * * * * *

Monday night Severus made Harry sleep in his quarters and take a Sleeping Draught before bed. He knew his son would remain awake the whole night else and that was not what he needed. Harry did not bothering protesting, when Severus got that particular look in his eye, he would not budge if the sky were falling down.

Tuesday morning dawned, and Harry drank the anti-venom Severus gave him, it tasted like cold tea and nothing more. He had gone and given Cedric his dose a few days ago and told him about the four mythological creatures they would face. Cedric had thanked him and Harry had shrugged and told him he owed him one for sticking up for him that day against the other students. Fair was fair and a Snape always paid his debts.

The first task was scheduled for the afternoon, and they made everyone go to class and lunch before going to gather upon the Quidditch pitch. Harry and the other three champions were let out of class early to pose for pictures and be interviewed again by Skeeter. Harry endured all of the publicity stoically, counting the minutes till he was to face the living myths.

Draco, Ron, Hermione, and Katie had all wished him good luck beforehand and so had his father. But his hands were now clammy and sweat trickled down his back. _Sure wish I had one of Dad's Stomach Calming Elixirs right now. Good thing I hardly ate luch, otherwise I'd be leaving it all over the ground._

Finally, the interview session was over and the champions were led into a tent where Ludo Bagman awaited them. "Hullo, everyone! All set for the big match? Good!" He beamed congenially at all of them.

Fleur looked haughty, Krum had a scowl on his face, and Cedric smiled back at him politely. Harry tried, but feared he only looked like he had gas and not eager to face the task ahead.

Bagman cleared his throat. "Now then, the rules for this task are as follows. You must find a way to get past a certain creature and retrieve a small gilded scroll case where it is lying upon the ground. That scroll case contains a clue to the second task . . .if you survive the first one that is." Here he chuckled. "A little joke, sorry. You may use any means at your disposal to defeat the creature, but please refrain from killing it if you can. Some of these species are endangered and rare."

"What are they?" asked Fleur.

"You will find that out in good time. Points will be given for creativity and effectiveness of spellcasting and reaction time and how quickly you retrieve the scroll case. The judges will give you a score based upon those things and the one with the highest score will win this round. If you fail to retrieve the scroll case or are too badly injured, you will be disqualified. Are you all ready then?"

The four champions nodded.

"Good. Reach into this bag here and pull out what you find there," Ludo said, picking up a large scarlet silk sack. "Ladies first, Miss Delacour."

Fleur reached into the bag and pulled out a replica of a darkhound.

Cedric was next, and he drew the manticore.

Krum drew the chimera, which left Harry with the lamia.

His heart pounding, he cupped the small figurine of the lamia with its odd serpent body and reminded himself that this was what Phil had been training him for. He would succeed.

"Wait here until you hear your name called, then come out. I shall inform the others of your opponents."

All too soon they heard Dumbledore announce, "Will Viktor Krum step forward? You are to battle a chimera."

Scattered applause followed as Viktor stepped out of the tent. Harry wondered if he could be last again.

One by one the others were called and Harry could not tell how well they did, for the crowd screamed and applauded so loudly, they rivaled the snarls and growls of the beasts. From the sounds, he thought the others had managed to complete their tasks. Finally, Harry was the only one left in the tent, and it was then Phil appeared, holding a sheathed rapier.

"Harry, I don't have long, but I figured you could use this. Keep it in here since you are not supposed to carry weapons into the arena, but you may summon it to you later." He set the sword down. "Remember, strike with your full weight behind the blow, no hesitation. Or else she will have you. Use what you have learned and you will be fine. Remember, you are the heir to Prince Manor and the blood of kings runs in your veins." He gave the nervous wizard a hug, clapping him on the back. "Merlin go with you, nephew."

Harry straightened and gave Phil a brave smile. "Thank you, uncle. Tell Dad not to worry too much."

The vampire grinned. "I will."

Then he vanished just as Dumbledore called Harry's name. Harry squared his shoulders, centered himself, and walked out, the black cloak with the number four rustling about his ankles.

The roar of the crowd was deafening, and for an instant he could not hear himself breathe. But he focused upon the enclosure where the lamia was sitting, eyeing him with interest. She had a strange smile upon her face, one that gave Harry the chills. The lamia was oddly beautiful, her dark emerald hair shimmered in the sun and she was voluptuous, her top half covered by a diaphanous shirt, her lower half was a snake, with patterned green, black, and red scales.

Hundreds of faces peered down at him and he felt like a goldfish in a bowl, but then he focused upon his enemy and stepped through the gap, wand at the ready to summon the rapier.

But as his feet entered the enclosure, the lamia turned the full force of her gaze upon him and he slowed. Time seemed to stop and he was frozen, and suddenly the lamia vanished and he saw his mother, reaching out to him with both hands imploringly.

"Mum?" he murmured, trying to think past the fog in his head. Why was everything so misty, so confusing?

There was a burning sensation upon his chest. Sharp and annoying, he reached up to scratch it and his hand closed over the Amulet of Inheritance. Instantly Lily was gone and he could see the lamia, swaying back and forth in a hypnotic pattern, her top and bottom halves undulating in a mesmerizing dance.

_A Glamour! But glamours don't work on the fae and I am of the Prince-Valinek line. _The lamia was drawing closer now, in the space of a minute she had come the length of the thirty-foot enclosure, and her smile widened, revealing long fangs like that of a deadly viper.

_"Come to me, little one,_" she sang, crooning an ancient lullaby. "_Come and let me hold you."_

Harry shuddered, her voice was like silk, and all at once he recalled Phil's instructions. _Don't listen to her song, it can beguile, and once she has you in her arms, you will be hers for eternity in death. _He quickly cast a Muffling charm and the seductive voice was blotted out.

He chanted a quick Shield Charm. "_Protego!"_

The lamia hissed, her face twisted into a hate-filled smirk, and spat out a long viscous green stream of venom.

It struck the shield Harry had erected and bounced off.

The crowd screamed and cheered. Then Harry was moving, circling to the right, as the lamia uncoiled and lunged at him, her hands growing three-inch claws that she wielded like scythes.

Once, twice, the charm repelled them, but Harry could feel it fading, the claws were magic, and each strike weakened the shield. On the fourth strike the shield collapsed, but Harry had known it would and sprang up, twisting his body in midair and kicking out with his left foot in the _kin-sa-dor_ move known as the Gryphon's Strike.

His foot caught the lamia square in the jaw, rocking her back upon her tail, though she was not knocked out like a normal person would have been. Dazed, she shook her head, screeching.

"Holy Merlin!" exclaimed Bagman. "I've never seen anything like that! Where did he learn that maneuver?"

Harry ignored Bagman's voice, instead landing lightly upon his feet, and crying, "_Accio rapier!"_

Like an arrow from a bow, the rapier shot out of the tent and sailed into the boy's hand, Harry caught it instinctively, without even looking. He quickly yanked off the sheathe and faced the angry demon serpent again.

"Come on, snake-face! You want a piece of me?" The lamia snarled. "Come and get me!"

Harry set his feet firmly, just as Phil had taught him. Then he watched the lamia's eyes and chest, seeing the eyes glitter with fury and the chest tense just before she flung herself on top of him.

"I shall strip the bones from your flesh, foolish child, and feast upon them!"

Harry thrust upwards hard.

The rapier slid into the lamia's breast like a hot knife into butter.

The demon screamed, and Harry stepped back, yanking the blade out of her.

Black blood flowed from the lamia sluggishly, and she writhed, spitting venom and curses upon the young wizard.

Harry ran past her to the golden scrollcase which rested upon a pillow, but just as his fingertips touched the object, it vanished in a puff of smoke.

The crowd gasped. What was this?

Harry gaped, then whirled about at the lamia's mocking laugh. _Harry, you idiot! Remember, she's a fae creature, master of illusion! It was a trick!_

The lamia waved her tail mockingly, and Harry then saw the scroll case held tightly in her tail.

"Looking for this, little boy? Come and get it!"

The wound in her torso had almost closed, he saw in horror. Then she reared back and sent more streams of venom at him.

Now he blessed the hours he had spent with Phil and Severus, working on dodging missiles and footwork.

He skipped neatly away and around the venomous spittle, which left burning holes where it struck the earth.

_Strategy, Harry. Use your head._ He panted, trying to think of a way he could get the case without getting too near her. He did not know if he would get lucky enough to stab her a second time, now that she had been wounded she was wary.

_The object is to get the scroll case._ _I need a diversion._

He lowered the rapier and began to wave his wand about, seeming as if he were casting some kind of spell. The lamia's eyes were now watching his wand hand.

Harry concentrated and non-verbally summoned the scroll case with wandless magic.

Distracted, the lamia did not feel the sharp invisible tug upon the case until it was already halfway out of her grip and by then it was too late.

The case hurtled through the air and Harry stuck his wand up his sleeve and caught it in midair just the way he did the Snitch.

The crowd went wild, screaming and cheering.

Harry smiled, for he had done it. He had completed the first task.

He backed slowly away from the lamia and towards the enclosure entrance, rapier held at the ready.

"A blight upon thee, little wizardling!" she hissed, and shot towards him.

Harry stepped back, sword held in a classic stance, and the lamia twisted hard to avoid the shining silver blade, anathema to her kind.

Harry lunged once more and felt the rapier's tip pierce the serpent part of the demon's body.

The lamia howled and shrank away, but her claw lashed out, catching Harry alongside the cheek.

It left a stinging scratch that made his face go numb, but he ignored it.

Harry released the rapier then, leaving it embedded in the lamia, and sprinted the last two feet to the entrance and through the gap.

"Now _that's_ what I call a face-off!" Bagman cheered. "Who taught him how to fight that way?"

Harry paused outside the enclosure, one hand going to his throbbing cheek, which was now bleeding and burning fiercely. He still clutched the scroll case in his other hand. His breath was coming in panting gasps as the adrenaline rush drained out of him.

Back in the arena, the lamia had managed to pull out the rapier and snap it in two.

She seemed to grow to ten times its size, looming over the enclosure, mouth agape, venom flecking her fangs. "_Filthy fae-child! How dare thee strike me?"_

The furious demon uncoiled with the swiftness of its cobra brethren and made for the entrance.

Bagman shouted, "Hold! Get back!" He made a complicated pass with his wand, and a glowing barrier sprang up.

The lamia struck it, sparks flew all over, and then she began to come through, laughing in triumph.

Everyone gasped in horror.

Harry backed away, terror shooting through him. Why wasn't the lamia becoming subdued?

"Ludo, what are you doing?" shouted Crouch. "You told me you could control the thing!"

"I . . .I could. I don't know why it's not working!" Bagman shouted, panicked. He shouted the spell again, but it fizzled and died.

In another moment the lamia would be free, and once free, would be able to kill all in her path. "Venegeance is mine, wizards!"

She wriggled halfway through the entrance, Ludo's barrier crackling but not halting her. "So many children, so little time!"

McGonagall, standing next to Severus, pointed her wand and transfigured a small pebble into a massive rock face in front of the lamia.

But the lamia sneered and slithered quick as a thought up it.

"She's escaping!" screamed Rita Skeeter. "Do something—_anything_!"

There was pandemonium up in the stands, as students tried to leave and were nearly trampled.

Dumbledore quickly cast a Calming Charm over them, and cried, "Everyone, remain where you are, please! Do _not _panic!"

Back in front of the enclosure, Crouch was screaming at Bagman, "Banish her, you idiot! Quickly!"

"I-I'm trying!" sputtered Ludo, panicking.

"Allow me."

Snape shoved the stuttering incompetent idiot aside and faced the lamia, who had slithered right down the conjured rock face. His amulet burned and glowed as he faced the serpent demon.

The lamia checked sharply. "Accursed fae blooded sorcerer!" She shielded her eyes from the amulet's fierce glow. "Ahhh!"

Severus pointed his wand and cried sharply, "Get thee hence, demon! I, Severus Snape, banish thee back to the hell you were spawned from! _Licentia, Diabola!_"

A glowing silver streak exploded from the ebony wand, struck the lamia and illuminated the cringing half-serpent creature. She screamed, writhing, but to no avail. A glittering portal appeared above her and sucked her through, sealing itself shut an instant later.

Snape's face was the color of parchment, mute testimony to how much the spell had cost him to cast. He swayed upon his feet for an instant, exhaustion sweeping through him, but managed to remain upright. He could collapse later. There was a fool that needed the hide flayed off him first.

"Wow, Snape, that was simply amazing!" Bagman gushed. "How—"

"Shut up, you twit!" Severus whirled upon the other wizard, his eyes blazing. "What kind of idiot summons a lamia without knowing how to banish it? Around hundreds of _children? _Do you know what would have happened if she had gotten free completely? Do . . .you?"

He was practically spitting, and he confronted Bagman nearly nose to nose, and Bagman cringed and cowered away from the furious Potions Master like a misbehaving first-year. "I . . .I thought I had her under control, Snape! Really!"

"You _thought_? Next time, Bagman, leave the thinking to those who still have brains in their heads," sneered Severus. "You are lucky I know how to banish demons, or else there would have been deaths today in your precious tournament! Or don't you know that a lamia's main food source is children? Eaten alive, fool! What were you thinking, bringing one into this world to be faced by a child? We banished them for a reason!"

Ludo went green and gulped sharply. "But . . .but I thought that was just a legend . . .I didn't really believe . . ."

"Next time, do your research!" snarled Snape. "Incompetent bungler! Stick to playing Quidditch!"

He spun away from the other wizard so he would not be tempted to hex him into a puddle of pond slime.

Then his eyes fell upon his son, his hand pressed to his bloody cheek. "Harry! You're bleeding. Let me see."

He rushed over to his son.

"I'm fine, Dad, don't fuss—ow!" he yelped as Severus tilted his face up and probed the scratch.

"Your entire cheek is swollen and turning purple." Severus stated. "Come, let's get you to the hospital tent, Harry. Merlin only knows what kind of filth that creature had upon her claws." He took his son firmly by the shoulder and marched him towards the medical tent. "I'm proud of you, son."

Harry smiled through the pain. His father's words were the only reward he needed right then.

**Sorry this is so late, but I was working on another fic for a contest on P &S with RaeKelly which has a deadline.**

**But better late than never, right?**

**Hope you all liked my little twists and turns! Please review and let me know what you thought! Thanks for being so patient.**

**My lamia differs from the traditional one in that she can cast spells and spit venom, she is much more dangerous than the one in the Greek myths. If you would like to read about the mythical lamia go to Wikipedia.**


	18. It's All Greek To Me

**It's All Greek To Me**

The hospital tent was quiet, and Harry and Severus were the only occupants so far besides Madam Pomfrey, though Severus was quite sure it would fill up as soon as the mess from the stands was cleared up. Even with Albus's Calming Charm, there were sure to be kids injured from panicking. But right then, Poppy was anxiously waiting on Harry. She came forward immediately when she saw them. "Where are you hurt, Mr. Snape?"

"Look at his face, Poppy. The lamia he fought scratched him," Severus replied before Harry could do so.

Poppy tisked and shook her head, muttering something derogatory about the tournament. "Come sit here, Harry." She led him to a camp chair and he sat down. Now that he was off his feet, he felt suddenly exhausted and wanted to do nothing more than sleep. But his face was still hurting and he wanted to know how the other champions had fared against their opponents, but before he could speak, Poppy pressed two fingers to his cheek.

"Ow!"

Severus put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "Be still, son."

Poppy waved her wand at him and frowned. "Well, there's some kind of magical infection going on in there, Severus. That's why his cheek is swollen and discolored."

"I figured as much. How will you treat it? A sponge soaked in murtlap and lymetia solution?"

"Precisely." The mediwitch said. "That should work better than a spell. But first, drink this Pain Reliever, Mr. Snape." She handed him a squat vial of potion and he made a face but managed to swallow it. Almost immediately, the throbbing dulled.

Poppy busied herself taking out several small sponges, that looked like ones girls used to remove make-up, and began to mix up murtlap and another kind of solution in a bowl. The liquid thickened slightly, turning a strange blue-green color, and Poppy muttered a Warming Charm on it to heat it a bit. Then she placed the sponges in the bowl and let them sit for a minute, letting them become saturated with the solution.

"Mr. Snape, you need to reach into the bowl, take out a sponge, and place it on your face over the scratch and hold it there for ten minutes. You'll feel a tingling warmth at first. As the infection gets drawn out by the solution, the sponge will change color and become black. I will watch and as soon as the sponge turns black tell you to remove it from your face and put another on and so forth, until all the infection has been drawn out and the swelling should be reduced then also."

Harry reached in the bowl and took out a sponge and pressed it to his cheek. He winced, for the stuff on the sponge stung and tingled but he kept it on there. In another minute, it had stopped tingling and made his face go numb.

Poppy treated various other scrapes and bruises he hadn't even realized he had picked up while he held the sponge to his face, healing them in a trice with spells. Harry looked up at his father, who had remained beside him the entire time. "Dad, shouldn't you be with the other judges? I mean, aren't the scores supposed to be given out?"

"As long as you are injured, I will remain with you. The scores cannot be given until all the champions are present," Severus explained. He gently pulled Harry's head back until it was lying against his chest.

"Is it working?"

"Yes," his father answered after peering at the sponge. "Keep it on there, Harry. You should start to feel a little better soon."

Harry sighed softly but obeyed. He almost fell asleep waiting for the sponge to turn black.

"All right, you can remove the sponge and take a fresh one. That one you can leave on for five minutes," Poppy instructed.

Harry removed the sponge and saw to his astonishment that the formerly white-yellow sponge was now black, as if it had been used to sop up ink. "All that . . .stuff was in me?"

"Yes. Filthy evil creatures, lamias," sniffed the mediwitch. She took the sponge and banished it.

"Dad, how did you know how to banish her?" his son asked.

Severus shrugged. "It's always a good thing to know how to banish demons, Harry. Although the Headmaster better have an explanation for this than usual. You could have been killed!"

"So could the other three, Dad. They had dangerous creatures to fight too."

"True, but they are of age and they chose to participate. _You_ did not." He gently ran his fingers through his son's hair, relieved that Harry had survived the first task. He quietly thanked God and Merlin.

There came a sort of commotion at the tent entrance, and then Draco, Ron, Hermione, and Katie burst in.

"Harry, are you all right?" called Draco, his face creased with worry. "I saw that bloody demon scratch you."

"I'll live," he said. He smiled slightly as he felt a small feline body settle upon his lap and Smidgen's voice whisper in his mind, _:Well done, Braveheart! You are a true heir to Prince Manor. For only one with Seelie blood could have withstood the lamia's enchantment. Hail, Prince Harry Snape-Valinek!:_

_Thanks, Smidgen._ He felt a warm glow of pride suffuse him, for the shimmerling's regard meant a great deal to him.

"Oh, Harry! We were so worried about you!" Hermione cried, rushing over to hug him. She glanced up at Professor Snape, who stood behind his son and said in an awe-filled voice, "Professor, the way you banished that . . .lamia, I think it's called . . .was simply . . .amazing! It was like . . .like watching Moses part the Red Sea or . . .or Arthur pull the sword from the stone, sir!"

Astonished, Severus raised both eyebrows. "Miss Granger, surely it was not _that_ miraculous."

"Oh, but it was, sir!" Hermione gushed. "Everyone was going mad up there, it was like pandemonium and people were sure we were going to die and then you came and . . ."

"Just kicked its scaly arse back to hell," Ron finished, also giving the Potions Master a worshipful look. "It was bloomin' awesome."

"Three cheers for Professor Snape and Harry," said Katie, she was bolder than Hermione even, for she hugged and kissed Harry and then dared to hug the professor as well.

And Severus did not say anything, much to the others' shock. At first he had felt as if he were an island in the midst of a very noisy sea of teenagers, but then he felt an unaccustomed feeling of . . .satisfaction start somewhere in the vicinity of his chest and spread outward. Rare it was for any save Slytherins to show this much appreciation for him and it felt good to be recognized for something other than the bat of the dungeons for once.

"Ahem, Miss Bell."

"Oops, sorry, sir!" Katie blushed and drew away, but Harry could tell she was not really sorry at all. She looked down at him. "Harry, your face looks awful. Does it hurt much?"

"Not so much now," he lied gallantly, for it still twinged sharply. "Were any of the others hurt?"

"Diggory got a cut arm from the manticore, didn't move quick enough," Draco reported. "Krum got singed from the chimera but he's all right. And Fleur came out of it with a torn robe." He eyed his brother. "Since you faced the toughest of the lot, looks like you had the worst injury."

"Big surprise there." Ron chuckled. "It wouldn't seem right if Harry didn't get injured at least once a year."

Severus scowled. "A record I am trying to break him of, Mr. Weasley. So please do not encourage him."

Ron flushed and muttered a "Yes, sir."

"I wonder if you'll get your name in the paper, Dad, for being a hero?" Draco asked. "I mean, to banish a lamia is pretty tricky. I don't think Lucius could have done it half as quick, or Dumbledore either."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Enough with the flattery, Draco. You're not getting your Christmas present early."

"Aww . . ._Dad_!" groaned Draco, playing along.

The others snickered and Draco pretended to glare at them.

Suddenly, a reporter with a camera bust into the tent and went to snap Severus's picture. "Professor Snape, a moment of your time, please. I'm Alan Morris from _The Quibbler_ and I would love to hear your thoughts on your heroic deed today."

"I simply did what any wizard in their right mind with the magic to do so would have done," Snape coughed uncomfortably. "I averted a threat and protected those under my care."

The young reporter scribbled frantically. "That's great, sir. Where did you—?"

"Mr. Morris, now is not the time to do interviews. I am a judge on the panel and as such I have to report back there as soon as my son is healed. Maybe later we can arrange something?"

"Oh, yes. Definitely, sir. Right, later on. Um . . .what time, sir?"

"My office, after dinner." Severus said quickly.

Morris nodded, all starry-eyed, and left, nearly dropping his quill and notepad.

"Looks like you're a celebrity too now, Dad," Harry couldn't resist teasing the other man.

"Oh, joy."

"Time to change your sponge, Harry," Madam Pomfrey reminded him.

Harry repeated the process with the remaining sponges and solution, until his cheek was no longer purple and swollen and all the infection had been drawn out. During that time, Ron filled him in on how the others had battled their mythical monsters.

"You shoulda seen it, Harry. Cedric was the best after you. He conjured some kind of glowing rope and called up his broom and then he threw the loop around it's stinger and wrapped the other part about its front feet and yanked it down on the ground. But then he came close to tie it tighter or something and it slapped him with its paw, but other than that he was great. Got the scroll case in record time."

"Fleur too. She Stunned the darkhound and grabbed the case, but then the dog shook it off, don't ask me how, and grabbed hold of her robe and nearly bit her, but she managed to get away and left it with just a piece of her robe," Draco said.

"Krum wasn't half-bad either. He used some kind of spell that hit the chimera's lion head right in the eye and blinded it," Katie continued. "Then he froze the rear half with a Freezing Hex, but he forgot about the goat head being able to breathe fire and it caught him when he ran past it to grab the case."

"Serves him right, the overconfident booby," Hermione sniffed. "That'll count against him in the standings, right, Professor?"

Snape nodded briefly, examining Harry's cheek again. It was nearly back to normal. The entire procedure had taken fifteen minutes.

As soon as Poppy had pronounced him free to go, Mr. Crouch came by to see how he was getting on. "Everything all right in here, Mr. Snape?"

"Fine, sir," Harry said respectfully.

"We were just leaving," Severus said smoothly.

"Nothing too serious, was it?"

"No, sir, just a scratch," Harry said, it was the truth.

"Good! Good! We'll be moving on now." Crouch chivvied them through the tent and up to the dais where the other champions waited and Severus took a seat on the judges' panel.

"And now, it appears that our champions are safe and sound and have each passed the first task," Bagman announced, using a Sonorous Spell. "Let's see how the judges rated them. Fleur Delacour!"

The French girl waited nervously.

McGonagall shot an 8 into the air in a silvery loop. The Beauxbatons contingent cheered madly.

Next it was Crouch's turn. He gave her an 8 as well.

Then came Bagman. He gave her a 9.

Dumbledore gave her a 9.

Lastly, Snape drew his wand. A silvery 8 hung in the air.

Everyone was cheering and clapping madly.

"Well done, Miss Delacour!" Bagman clapped. "Next up, Mr. Diggory!"

Cedric received 9's from everyone except Bagman, who gave him a 10.

Then it was Krum's turn. He received 7's from McGonagall and Crouch, 8's from Dumbledore and Bagman, and Severus gave him a 5 for not remembering that a chimera's main weapon was fire.

There were hisses and boos from the Durmstrang contingent, and Karkaroff glared daggers at the Potions Master.

Finally it was Harry's turn and everyone waited, still and hushed for the judges' rating.

Dumbledore shot a 9 into the air.

Then McGonagall gave him a 9 as well.

Bagman swirled his wand and out popped a 10.

_Ten?_ Harry frowned. "But . . .I wasn't perfect."

"You survived that she-devil, didn't you?" Cedric reminded him. "That's perfect in my book, Harry. I sure wouldn't have been able to do it."

"Nor I, _mon ami_," agreed Fleur.

Krum merely grunted and turned away, sulking.

Severus was next. He made one brief motion and a 10 came out of his wand also.

Harry was stunned. He knew, no one better, just how tough his father was on his own. Others might think he favored his son, but Harry knew better.

Cedric did too, for he was gaping like a landed trout.

Up in the stands, Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Katie were screaming, "Go, Harry, go!"

Crouch shot up his rating.

It was a 9.

Harry was now first in the standings.

The others congratulated him, though Krum did it sullenly, clearly he was not accustomed to losing gracefully.

A huge cheer erupted from the stands as they saw the two Hogwarts students were placed one and two.

But it was still anyone's game at this point.

Harry looked down at the scroll case in his hand and wondered what it contained.

* * * * * *

He had his answer a few moments later when Mr. Crouch led them into a tent and told them quietly that, "Each case contains a scroll written in a different ancient language. Your task is to translate the scroll, figure out the riddle upon it, and then speak your answer to the creature who invented the Riddle Game during the ancient days. Does anyone know what creature I'm talking about?"

None of them answered for a moment. But Harry was thinking hard. Severus had made him study mythology over the summer and he recalled reading about a Greek myth involving Oedipus and . . ."The Sphinx!" he cried out. "The Sphinx is the creator of riddles."

"Very good, Mr. Snape! I see you've studied your Greek mythology." Crouch said approvingly. "You have until February 24th at half past nine to complete the riddle challenge and speak your answers to the Sphinx."

"Is it a real Spinx, sir?" asked Krum.

"Of course it's real, Mr. Krum!" Crouch said irritably. "We have imported her from Luxor in Egypt, courtesy of Charlie Weasley, who made friends with her there on a trip one year. She is the genuine article, doubt it not."

"What will happen eef we cannot answer ze riddle? Or answer incorrectly?" asked Fleur.

"Then you will be disqualified. Points will be given on how well you translate your scroll and how fast you answer the riddle correctly, or come close to the correct answer. Those who answer correctly will receive the Sphinx's prize of "that which you love best". Only the Sphinx knows the correct answers to the riddles, as it was she who made them up."

_That which we love best? What could that be? A person or an object?_ Wondered Harry.

"If there are no further questions, you may go. Well done and good luck! I assume you will all be spending much time in the library." Crouch waved them off.

Harry left and joined his friends and they all started to walk back to the castle together. As they rounded a clump of trees along the path, a witch jumped out to confront Harry.

It was Rita Skeeter. "Harry, do you have time to give me a word or two? How did it make you feel, completing that task against one of the deadliest creatures alive, a myth made flesh? How do you feel about your scores? Do you feel satisfied? A word if you would?"

Harry drew up short. Then he said, in his most annoyed Snape-like tone, "A word, Ms. Skeeter? I'll give you two—_no comment_." Then he spun and walked off, flanked by Draco and Ron with Hermione and Katie trailing.

_That's telling her, Harry!_ Katie thought and gave the reporter a glare.

* * * * * *

The friends all decided to go out to Hogsmeade to celebrate Harry's success that evening. Their group would include the two brothers, Hermione and Katie, Ron and Zara and Crabbe and Goyle with Jeanette and Gabrielle. But first, they all wanted to get a gander at Harry's scroll.

Harry carefully undid the silver clasps upon it, which were in the shape of a Greek key pattern. He took out the scroll, unrolling it carefully.

Upon the scroll in deep carnelian ink were words that he could not read. "Uh . . .I don't have a clue what language this is in."

Hermione peered over his shoulder.

"Well, genius?" Harry asked after a moment.

"I . . .I think it's Greek. But I'm not one hundred percent sure, Harry."

Ron mimed a heart attack. "You mean there's something you don't _know_?"

Hermione glared at him. "Ronald, please! Harry, this looks like Greek to me. Only thing is, I can't read it. I never had time to learn Greek before coming to Hogwarts. I chose to learn Latin instead, since most spells are Latin based according to _Hogwarts:A History_."

"She chose to learn Latin instead," Ron repeated, shaking his head. "Bloody hell!"

Draco cuffed him lightly on the back of the head. "Watch it, Weasley. That's my girlfriend you're making fun of."

"Calm down, Draco. He doesn't mean anything by it," Hermione said. "Like you and Harry don't."

"Oh," Draco felt like an uptight arse now. He threw an apologetic look at Ron.

"So . . .who knows Greek that I can ask if this is the real thing?" Harry wondered.

"Dad might know, but he's a judge and can't help you," sighed his brother.

"What about Uncle Phil?" suggested Katie.

Harry beamed. "Brilliant! I should have thought of that. I mean he's a thousand years old, he must know every language there is."

They were lounging about in Harry's dorm room, having retreated there to get some peace and quiet.

"Not quite _every_ language, Harry," came a dry amused voice and then Phil appeared in the room like a wraith, his violet eyes sparkling. "Though when I was a boy it was required for every wellborn son to learn his Sophocles and Caesar." He walked over and Harry handed him the scroll. "By the way, you fought like a Snape today, Harry. Good job! Looks like I didn't do so bad teaching you after all."

"No, sir. You were how I was able to survive," Harry admitted. "I owe you."

"Nonsense, boy! Family owes no debts," Phil said. Then he examined the scroll. "Hmmm . . .this is a very ancient form of Greek."

"Can you read it, Uncle Phil?" asked Draco.

"Yes, but it's not as easy to read as the Greek I learned. But then, such is the nature of a Riddle Challenge. I suggest you go to the library here and start by trying to find a primer on ancient Greek and go from there."

"But, can't you just . . ." Harry began.

"No. That would be cheating," the vampire said firmly. "Part of a Riddle Challenge is research, Harry."

Harry groaned.

"I can help, Harry," offered Hermione. "I can find the books for you."

"Okay." Harry said. "Listen, I'm kind of tired, so I think I'll take a nap before dinner." He tucked the scroll back in the case and put it in his trunk.

With that, everyone left, except Phil paused to offer some advice. "Harry, you're smart. You have the brains of both your mother and father. You will succeed. I have ever confidence in you."

Then he disappeared, leaving his nephew alone to sleep, knowing that Smidgen was perched upon the top of the bed hangings, weaving peace and pleasant dreams about the heir to Prince Manor.

* * * * *

_Headmaster's office_

_An hour later:_

"How is it that you permitted that idiot Bagman to use a lamia as one of the creatures the champions had to face, Albus?" demanded a very angry Severus. "You know what that creature is! How could you allow the demon that devours children here at the school!"

"Severus, please calm down. This tea service is very old, it belonged to my great-great grandmother," Albus began soothingly.

"Who is probably turning in her grave to see the risks you take with your students!" rebuked the furious professor. Oh, but he had had it with Dumbledore's cavalier attitude when it came to such things.

Albus had the grace to look ashamed. "No doubt. I fear I take after my father's side of the family. But I assure you, Severus, that I did take into account that the creatures were properly restrained. And the other creatures were difficult to face, but not impossible. And that is the nature of the tournament. To challenge the wizard both physically and mentally and magically. Ludo had the lamia under a binding while she was inside the enclosure and she did not escape, so it was properly done."

"Because it suited her to remain where she was. His binding was flawed, Albus. Otherwise she never would have been able to shatter it. And then he couldn't even banish her."

"It was an unfortunate oversight on my part, Severus," Albus admitted heavily. "Thank Merlin you were there and reacted as quickly as you did, otherwise the consequences might have been unthinkable."

"Indeed. People might have died. My son might have died."

"I am sorry, old friend. If there were a way I could release Harry from the tournament . . ." Dumbledore looked genuinely distressed, and Severus knew it was not an act. The old archmagus really cared for Harry.

"I know you can't. Any more than I can." Severus admitted bitterly. "I can only watch and pray he comes through this mostly intact. I know as well that Bagman and Crouch are running the damn tournament and you have very little say in what they do with the challenges. But that doesn't make it easier to accept the fact that my son might meet his death in this damn contest."

"I know, my boy. I . . .would be the same if it were my son. Parenthood is never easy, but in the end, it's worth it."

Severus nodded. "Yes. Though there are times I wish I could lock them up in a room somewhere until they're twenty and they've outgrown the need to make me insane."

"Every father's fondest wish," chuckled the Headmaster. "This next task is not physically dangerous. It is a challenge of the mind."

He quickly explained what the task was.

Severus wasn't really happy about it, but since it was too late to kidnap Harry and run away to Prince Manor, he had to accept it. "Make sure the Sphinx is kept under control, Albus. Or else I shall be tempted to Stun you and feed you to a manticore."

"Fear not, Severus. The Sphinx does not kill children, that is a myth. She simply lives to invent and challenge people with riddles. And I know Harry has inherited both yours and Lily's brains. I expect he will do well."

"Yes."

"Tea, Severus? Lemon drop?"

Severus declined the lemon drop but accepted the tea, he really needed something to calm his nerves. Though he refused to admit it or show it, he had been terrified when Harry had faced the lamia and it had broken loose. He still did not know how he remembered the words to that banishment spell. He had almost been too afraid to concentrate properly.

_It's over, Snape. Just let it go,_ he told himself firmly. "What is the third task?" he couldn't resist asking. _Curiosity, your name is Severus Snape._

"I do not know." Dumbledore said honestly. "Barty and Ludo prefer to keep me in the dark, I think perhaps they don't trust me."

Severus mumbled something that sounded like, "Imbeciles!" under his breath.

Then he picked up his tea and sipped it, wondering what his offspring were up to.

* * * * *

Severus's sons were currently engaged at a somewhat loud party in The Three Broomsticks. They toasted one another with their glasses and whatever else they happened to drink. They were having a good time, smiling and laughing and simply enjoying themselves, when a tall shadow loomed over them.

Everyone looked up to see Viktor Krum standing there, his hands in his pockets, a sneer upon his face.

Hermione was looking at him with an expression of horror on her face. "What do you want, Krum?"

"Vhat I've always vanted. Respect."

"Go somewhere else to find it," Draco barked sharply.

"Vatch your tone, little snake." He eyed Hermione. "My-nonny, doesn't it bother you that you are stuck vith a little boy instead of a man? Like his coward cheating father, who fixed ze results of the tournament."

"My father is no such thing!" Draco was on his feet, shouting.

"No? Prove it."

Harry rose too, his blood boiling. "Go back to the castle, Krum. Your fan club's waiting."

Viktor went beet red. Then he lunged at Draco and knocked Harry sprawling.

In over two seconds, there was a brawl going on, since it was full of customers who were inebriated and spoiling for some action.

**I know . . I know . . .a cliffie, but hey at least it'll give you something to predict till I write the next one. **

**How did you like it?**

**And what do you think will happen now?**


	19. Merlin Help Us All

**Merlin Help Us All**

Before he could say Quidditch, Harry found himself face down on the floor, and rolling, trying to avoid getting trampled by Krum as he slammed Draco against the wall. _Bloody obnoxious git! Mop up the floor with him, Dragon!_ He felt a hand grip his shoulder and he half-spun, his fist cocked, but to his relief it was only Ron, offering him a hand up.

"Thanks, mate," Harry said, accepting the redhead's hand and climbing to his feet.

"No problem," Ron said, glaring angrily at Krum and then he looked up and gulped, for Krum's friends, big hulking beasts in fur robes, had come to join the party. "Uh, Harry . . .looks like we've got company."

Harry shook his head. Despite his dislike of fighting, he sensed that they were going to have to defend themselves, because the hulking cretins didn't look like they were in the mood to talk things over. "Ron, get my back," he ordered. "No wands, we'll get nailed if we use magic. Just use your fists."

"Right." Ron squared up, his hands snapping into fists. He shot a game smile at the girls, who were looking alarmed, at least the Beauxbatons ones were. Hermione looked as if she wanted to go a few rounds with Krum and so did Zara.

Harry looked about for Katie and then recalled she was in the loo, and so well out of this coming confrontation, thank Merlin. When he turned back around, he found a Durmstrang wizard snarling something right in his face. Harry didn't need a translator to tell that it was both insulting and a prelude to a fight.

The other student was older, bigger, and stronger than his Hogwarts counterpart, but Harry had fought Severus, who had all those advantages, and he was not taken aback. The bigger boy swung at him, Harry ducked, having seen it coming from a mile away, then he planted his shoulder in the other boy's midriff, grabbed the boy's arm and spun about in a half-circle, tossing the startled kid over his shoulder.

He flew through the air, arms windmilling, to land with a thud and crash on a table across the room. The table promptly collapsed, splintering in half, dumping the kid on the floor amid the broken pieces.

_Oops! Looks like I threw him a bit too hard,_ Harry thought ruefully.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "How did you do that?"

"I learned it from my father," Harry answered, ducking another punch and returning one of his own.

Beside him, Ron landed a good one in a Durmstrang student's eye, making the blond boy howl.

Draco was systematically beating the spit out of Krum, who could not match the younger boy's speed or agility or his knowledge of hand to hand combat. The Slytherin was not using _kin-sa-dor_, mindful of what had happened last time he had done that to Harry, but he was using boxing techniques that hurt just as much.

He licked his lower lip, it was swelling from a lucky punch, but other than that, Krum had not been able to land one on him. Recalling all of his lessons from Severus, Draco danced around the older lad, lunging in and out like a ghost, hitting Krum hard in the ribs or eye and then darting away.

Krum kept circling and spinning, swinging wildly at Draco, not understanding how the Slytherin kept avoiding his fists. He was hurting badly, but he was too stupid to quit and kept shouting how he was going to stomp Draco into the dirt.

Crabbe and Goyle had also risen when the Durmstrang students showed up, and they too were happily whaling away at them.

Within minutes, the entire barroom had erupted into a brawl, as the other patrons got caught up in the fight.

Harry never knew who called the Aurors, he was too busy fighting to worry about the law, so furious he could hardly see straight. Until there came a loud whistle and a stern voice yelled, "All right, people! Break it up! You're under arrest for disturbing the peace!"

Several uniformed Aurors entered the pub, wands out, and shot several Stunning Hexes at the brawling mass of wizards.

Within five minutes, they had restored order to the pub, as patrons scattered and fled, or were collared by an Auror and put in cuffs or Stunned.

"Harry, the Aurors are here!" Ron called, panicked. "Stop and let's go! He's had enough. Come on, mate!"

But Harry did not hear him, his Snape temper was up, and all he saw was another opponent. Ron tugged on his sleeve hopelessly. Harry yanked a friend of Krum's around and was drawing his fist back to deliver a sharp lesson to the other's face when he found his arm caught in a firm grip.

"Now that's enough, laddie." A beefy Auror with a distinct Irish brogue said. "Ye're coming with me, to cool yer temper in jail for a wee bit."

"Huh?" Harry blinked. "W-what do you mean?"

"What I said, lad." He quickly cuffed the shocked Gryffindor before Harry knew what he was about. "Come along now, boy."

"But . . .but . . .sir . . .they started it, we were just defending ourselves!" Harry protested. "I'm a Hogwarts student, you can't do this!"

"Yeah, mate!" cried Ron, who was undergoing similar treatment from another Auror. "Don't you know who he is? You can't lock up Harry Snape!"

The Auror holding Harry did a doubletake. "So you're the one, eh? The fourth champion and all?"

"Yes, sir. Could you please let us go? My father—"

"—will not be any too pleased with you, boyo," laughed the Auror. "But it coulda been worse. You coulda been drunk as well."

Harry saw to his dismay that Draco had also been caught and restrained, as had Krum and several others from Durmstrang.

The girls were left alone, for it was clear they had not been involved in the fight.

In fact, the last thing Harry saw before he was Apparated away was Katie's face—pale and scared, watching as the Aurors hauled him away along with half the barroom patrons to the local jail.

The Auror in charge of Harry, whose name, he said, was Finn O'Connor, put the Hogwarts contingent into a large cell and the Durmstrang students in another cell next door, reasoning they wouldn't be tempted to start the brouhaha all over again if they were separated. Clearly there was dislike between the two schools, if the amount of blood and bruises were anything to go by.

Besides Harry, Draco, and Ron, there were a few seventh and sixth years also in the cell, they had been drinking in a corner when the bralw had begun and had immediately rushed to the aid of their fellow classmates. They were a bit drunk and seemed unconcerned about the whole business, treating it like a lark.

Harry looked around at the cold steel bars and the wooden chair in the corner and the steel bench bolted to the floor, which was the only furniture in the cell, and the adrenaline that had surged through him died and was replaced by a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. _I can't believe this just happened. I mean, we were just minding our own business when Krum comes over and starts with Draco and next thing you know, I'm arrested and in jail. Merlin help us all, but we are so dead!_

He made his way over to the bench and sat down, putting his head in his hands.

Draco dropped down to sit beside him, he had a hole in his robe and his face was bloody and bruised, but he was otherwise all right. "Merlin, Harry, we are so screwed!" He groaned. "Anybody got a shovel?"

"A shovel? What for?" laughed one of the older students. "Plan on trying to dig your way out, kid?"

"No," Draco replied, his eyes wide and scared. "I'm going to use it to dig my own grave and save my father the trouble. He's going to kill us, Harry."

"But Draco, we didn't start it! Krum did!"

"You think he's gonna care who _started_ it?" Draco cried. "We're in jail, for Godsake! We've been _arrested_!"

"Hey, calm down, Malfoy," Ron said. "It's all a mix-up, they'll send someone to get us out soon. I hope."

"Easy for _you_ to say, Weasley! You're not the one who's going to die later on tonight."

Ron paled. "Do you think they know already? Will they tell our parents?"

"Probably," Draco sighed. "Unless Dumbledore hushes it up. Not that it matters to us. We're dead meat however you look at it."

Harry groaned. "Draco, how mad do you think he'll be? Once we explain what happened . . ." But then he recalled how he had totally lost it, and allowed his temper to rule him and he wondered guiltily if he'd caused serious injury to anyone.

"Harry, we're not going to make it to seventeen, trust me." Draco predicted woefully. "I wish I'd just let Krum beat the snot out of me."

"No you don't. Because then you'd be a wuss," Ron pointed out.

"You're right." Draco conceded. "I'm not sorry I gave him a licking. Only sorry I ended up here. I wonder if they give a last meal to the condemned?"

Harry wondered how long it would take the news to reach the castle and once it did, how long it would be before Severus came to fetch them home. He had a sinking feeling he would wish it were later rather than sooner, despite the fact that he hated being confined. He had tried to maintain a positive front to keep Draco from falling apart, but inside he too was quivering, for the wrath of Severus Snape was not something a wise son provoked.

_Headmaster's office,_

_Hogwarts School:_

Severus set his third cup of tea down on the tray, ready to call it a night and go down to his quarters to read a bit before bedtime. He was feeling very weary and tired, banishing the lamia had taken more out of him than he would have wished. Listening to Dumbledore natter on about the tournament hopefully promoting better relationships between the three schools had almost caused him to fall asleep, and he had to fight to keep his eyes open.

Phil had gone to hunt tonight, and he thought Smidgen was keeping an eye on Moody and Karkaroff, trying to see if either one had any taint of a dark summoning on them. She had already tested both Crouch and Bagman, they were clean. Therefore they were not the ones who had summoned the lamia, and if he had to guess, he would bet Karkaroff to have done such before, given what he had been, or at least had the connections to pay another wizard to do it.

"Albus, it's nearly nine thirty, time for me to be going," he began, rising to his feet.

Just then there came a knock on the door. "Come in," Albus called, thinking it was Minerva or one of the other Heads.

The door swung open to reveal an Auror in official robes with a scroll in his hand, followed by a flustered Karkaroff. "Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore, so sorry to disturb you, sir. I am Auror MacKenzie and I'm afraid there has been an incedent at Hogsmeade in the Three Broomsticks involving several of your students."

Severus could feel alarm bells pealing madly in his brain at that statement.

"An incident, you say?" Dumbledore was as calm as ever. He might have been discussing the weather. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Well, not severely, a few cuts and bruises and whatnot. The usual after a barroom brawl," reported the Auror. "We rounded them up and put them in the local holding pen, and here's the list of the students involved. Apparently one of them was your young champion, Harry Snape, and his brother too."

He handed Dumbledore the list of names.

Severus felt as if he had just been punched in the gut with a Bludger. "Excuse me, officer? Could you repeat your last statement? Because for a minute there I thought I heard you say that my two sons were involved in a _barroom brawl_."

"No, you heard right, Professor Snape," said the Auror, looking faintly guilty. "We're sorry to have caused you any inconvenience, sir, but they were in it up to their necks and well, champion or no, the law is the law, so you see . . ." He looked over at the tall Potions Master.

Snape was white, the only color in his face were two red spots high on his cheekbones. Auror MacKenzie flinched and took a step backwards upon seeing Snape's eyes. They were blazing so brightly the other wizard was surprised the carpet hadn't caught fire. He looked away, and felt a strong desire to run out of the room and keep running. His second thought was to thank Merlin and God that he wasn't Snape's son. _Those poor boys! I think they ought to start making funeral preparations. If the professor's anything like my da, they'll be needin' one._

"No, Auror MacKenzie, I quite understand," Severus said in a deceptively soft tone. "No one, least of all my sons, are above the law."

"Ahem! Yes, well . . .we took statements, several of the Hogwarts students claimed a boy from Durmstrang, Viktor Krum, started the fight by hitting one of them, I think it was over a girl—"

"That is a lie!" Karkaroff cried. "My students would never behave so. I am sure, officer, that Viktor was provoked."

MacKenzie rolled his eyes. "Sure, that's what they all say. Listen, Mr. Karkaroff, I have seven witnesses who testified that your boy started the whole thing, including one pretty lass with brown hair who says she's the boy who was hit—Draco Malfoy—I think was his name—she says she was his girlfriend and your boy Krum has been pestering her something awful."

"I believe that would be Miss Granger," said Dumbledore. "Last I had heard, she was walking out with young Draco."

Severus raised an eyebrow. Trust the old coot to know who was dating whom. Dumbledore was an inveterate gossip.

"Then she is a lying hussy too!" Karkaroff accused.

Severus swung on the other man. "Igor, if I were you I would watch who you accuse of lying. Miss Granger is an upstanding student of impeccable character and if she chose, she could press charges on Krum for harassment. And you wouldn't want that, now would you?" The threat in his tone was unmistakable.

Karkaroff scowled and promptly shut up about Hermione.

"What must be done to release the students, MacKenzie?" asked Albus.

"Oh, there's a small matter of a fine—thirty Sickles per student—that you'll need to pay, Headmaster."

"Very well, I shall see to it," Albus agreed, moving over to his desk to sign the scroll releasing the Hogwarts students and to write out a bank draft from the school funds.

"A moment, Albus," Severu said suddenly. "Auror MacKenzie, this holding cell you have the students in—there are no dementors guarding it, are there?"

"No, Professor. We're not the sort to need those things about, we don't get the hard cases, just the idiots who get drunk and rough people up or have a bit of a duel once in awhile. My partner is down at the station with your boys."

"Good." Severus said silkily, an idea beginning to take shape in his head. "Then perhaps you would be willing to do me a favor? I will pay the fine for my two sons, but I want you to keep them there overnight."

"Overnight, Severus?" Albus repeated.

"Are you mad, Snape?" Karkaroff sneered. "Why would you wish them to remain in jail?"

"To teach them a lesson, aye?" MacKenzie answered, catching on.

"Precisely, officer. I wish to teach them that breaking the law has consequences, even for ones as young as they are. My sons have a tendency to break rules and perhaps this will impress upon them the folly of doing so. I shall pick them up first thing in the morning. Where are you located in Hogsmeade?"

"The end of the street, just in back of Zonkos," replied the Auror.

Dumbledore handed him the signed scroll and a bank draft. Severus immediately summoned his purse and paid Dumbledore, ignoring the old wizard's protests.

Karkaroff handed the Auror another bank draft, scowling and muttering something about highway robbery.

"All righty then, gents. I'll be off and send your kids back to you. And don't worry, Professor, we'll take good care of your two. Make sure they have a proper welcome and all." He winked at Severus before striding through the door and down the stairs.

Karkaroff soon followed and Albus gave Severus an apologetic glance and said, "I should be going with him, Severus. Are you sure you don't wish to change your mind? They are only fourteen . . ."

"Albus, I told you at the beginning of the year that if my sons got in trouble, I would punish them as I saw fit, and you were not to interfere. That still holds true, Headmaster. Perhaps next time they will learn to walk away before getting involved in a barroom brawl."

The Headmaster sighed. "You are strict, Severus. I do not know if I could be so . . ."

"Which is why I am in charge of their discipline and not you, Albus. My boys need a firm hand or else they will run wild."

Albus departed, sensing that nothing he said would change Snape's mind once it was made up.

Alone in the office, Severus swore several blistering oaths before sitting down and putting his head in his hands. _Damn it to hell, why me? When will those two ever learn to behave?_

_Hogsmeade jail:_

"All righty then, when I call your name, come to the front and step through the door," MacKenzie bawled, unlocking the cell to the Durmstrang contingent first. "No pushing, no shoving, and mind yer mouths, or else you'll go right back where you came from." He began to read off the list of names.

One by one, all the Durmstrang students were released. "You ought to thank your Headmaster, boys, for being so nice as to release all of you after how you behaved. Especially you, boyo." He gave Viktor Krum a sharp look.

"I have done nuffing," Krum protested.

MacKenzie snorted. "That's not what some people say, laddie. Go on then, get!"

The Durmstrang students walked away down the hall, where Karkaroff waited to pick them up and escort them back to their ship. Dumbledore had suggested, rather strongly, that his students be made to stay there until he was sure they knew how to behave themselves and not get into brawls in public with their host school. Igor was seething, but he dared not have it said that his students were rabble rousers, and so he agreed.

MacKenzie then turned to the group of Hogwarts students and told them the same thing. He began to read off the list of names.

Harry wasn't sure if he ought to be relieved or apprehensive. On the one hand, he really wanted to go home, but on the other hand he wasn't sure if going home was tantamount to suicide, given the mood his father was sure to be in.

Finally, all the Hogwarts students except Draco and Harry had been released. Dumbledore was waiting at the end of the corridor to escort them back to the castle.

Draco looked up at the tall ginger-haired Auror. "What about us?"

It was then Harry realized that their names hadn't been called. "Sir, didn't our father . . .didn't he pay for us to be released?"

MacKenzie sighed, he felt a bit sorry for the two boys, they reminded him a bit of himself and his brother at that age. "Well, boys, y'see . . ."

"He forgot, didn't he?" Draco interrupted. "Do you want us to owl him?" Much as he didn't want to, he knew it was better to just take his licks and get it over with.

"How could he forget, Draco?" Harry cried. "He remembers everything! Unless he's so mad that he'll never forgive us so he . . .left us here." He swallowed hard and looked down at the ground.

Mac took pity on them then. "Nah, lads, it's not like that. Your da still loves you, even if he does want to wallop you to kingdom come right about now. He knows you're here an' he's after teaching you a bit of lesson now. Y'see, you're going to be our guests, mine an' Finn's for the night."

"We're going to have to stay here overnight?" Harry cried. "But we didn't start anything! Krum attacked Draco first!"

"You can take that up with your da tomorrow morning, boyo. He'll be here to get you then." MacKenzie said, familiar with they way most wrongdoers protested their innocence upon learning they were going to prison. "For now, come with me. You'll be spending the night in a different cell."

"A different cell?" Draco repeated. "What's wrong with this one?"

"This is a temporary holding cell. Now come on. You're to have the complete treatment."

He led the boys from the cell and into another room, which was empty save for a small table. "Go over to the table and put your hands on it. I'm going to run my wand over you, make sure you have nothing hidden, like weapons on you." He had already taken their wands.

The two obeyed, while Mac walked around and ran his wand over them, chanting softly.

Harry wondered if this were a bad dream and he would wake up soon.

"Okay, you're clean. Turn around."

They faced the bluff Auror uncertainly. MacKenzie remained stiff and formal, despite wanting to reassure the two children. "Here's your new outfits."

A flick of his wand and their uniforms and robes were changed into a pair of linen black and white striped pajamas, complete with a number across their front. Harry's was 435 and Draco's 453. Even their trainers were changed into black slippers without hard soles.

Draco made a face. "_This_ is what we're wearing?"

"Aye, and be glad of it. This is a prison, not a high-falutin' hotel, kid." Mac said gruffly. "Now then, march out that door there," he indicated a door at the far end of the room. "And turn right. Stop at the second cell."

The two boys followed his directions. "I can't believe he's doing this to us," Harry muttered angrily. "It's so unfair!"

"Hush!" Draco ordered. "Quit whining. You didn't think he was going to let us off with nothing, did you?"

"No, but . . .he could have given us a chance to explain instead of just leaving us here to rot."

"Think of it this way, Harry. If we're here, it gives him more time to cool down. So that we won't end up decorating the dungeon. So don't go hurrying us along to our own funeral, all right."

"You don't understand. I hate being locked up."

Draco squeezed his shoulder. "Me too, but it's just for the night. We'll get through it, little brother. It's tomorrow we'll need to worry about."

Mac came and unlocked the cell door with a wave of his wand and held open the door. "Home sweet home, boys. At least for tonight."

They went inside. The cell was smaller than their original one, it had two metal bunks fastened to the wall, each with a thin pillow and a gray blanket folded on it. There was a small porcelain sink and two cups. A toilet was in the corner, with a curtain off to the side of it.

"I'll take off the cuffs, seeing as you're not Death Eaters," Mac joked, and the cuffs unlocked and floated over to him. He shut the cell door with a sharp clang, locking it with a Locking Charm. "Good night, lads. Finn will be down the hall if you need anything, like a handkerchief."

Then the Auror turned to leave, dimming the lights as he did so.

Draco glanced about. They were the only occupants in this block, but they could hear mutterings from other prisoners nearby. He went to run the water and wash his face, it came out lukewarm, and he wished he had a mirror to see how he looked. But mirrors weren't something prisoners were allowed.

Harry went and sat down on the bunk, the cold dullness of the cell reminding him oddly of his cupboard. He sighed. The pajamas were thin, he shivered a bit. He would have taken Snape in a temper over this confinement. _Yeah, right,_ a part of him thought mockingly. _If he were here right now, you'd be looking for a hole to hide in._ Despite the Auror's reassurance, he was still worried that his father wouldn't forgive him for this latest mess. It was one thing to get into a fight at school, but another thing to get arrested and thrown in jail for getting into a fight in public.

Imagining how disappointed and angry Severus was made his stomach hurt. He winced as it cramped and suddenly he needed to use the toilet. But there was no door and no privacy, he thought in horror. Just a flimsy curtain, one that didn't even close all the way.

Flushing hotly, he called over to Draco, who was holding a cloth to his eye, "Draco? Don't turn around. I'm using the loo."

"Oh. Okay." Draco answered back, and kept staring across the bars at the cell next door.

His ears burning, Harry tugged the curtain as far as it would go, and used the facilities. One thing he did know for sure, and that was he would never again get involved in a barroom brawl, no matter what. His stomach agreed with him fervently.

Afterwards, Harry lay on the top bunk, trying not to squirm at the scratchy blanket covering his bare feet. He had forgotten what it was like to have old ratty things to sleep with since moving to Prince Manor. The mattress was thin and lumpy, he tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable.

Below him, he heard Draco doing the same.

He wrapped his hand around his medallion, feeling it warm beneath his hand, and thought of how much he longed to be home at Prince Manor. He missed the manor and the orchard with a fierce longing that made him ache. "Draco? You awake?"

There came a rustle, then a quiet, "Yeah. What's the matter? Can't sleep either?"

"No. What do you think he'll do to us?"

Draco let his breath out in a sigh. "I've been trying not to think about that. Probably take a spoon to our backsides, if I had to guess. At least once. And then we're going to be grounded."

"Yeah, that's what I figured too." Harry steepled his fingers across his chest. "Think it'll matter if we tell him we didn't start it?"

"Maybe. Depends on how mad he is. You know how he hates it when we get into fights in public. Both of us know better. And he's going to nail my arse because he's already punished me for that twice before," Draco said gloomily. "You, he might go a bit easier on, since this is your first time getting in trouble at school for something like this."

"Stupid Krum! I sure wish it were him going to get walloped by Dad."

Draco chuckled. "I think I took care of that already, Phoenix."

"You sure about that?"

"Positive. I might look banged up, but you should see Krum. He looks like he's been through the First Wizard War." Draco said proudly.

_:Indeed, young one. He looked pummeled and battered passing fair, as the Bard would say,:_ came a familiar voice in their heads.

An instant later, a tiny black purple-winged cat appeared in their cell with a soft pop! Her violet eyes, the mark of a dreamweaver, glowed with lambent light as she surveyed the two miscreants.

"Smidgen!" they cried.

_:Ai, children, what HAVE you gotten yourselves into this time?:_

"The usual mayhem," Harry quipped. Just seeing the little fae cat made him feel ten times better. "How did you find us? I thought you were keeping an eye on Igor the Sneaky."

_:I was, but he wasn't doing much sneaking after the authorities told him about his students getting arrested. When I heard that, I wondered if you two were involved, and of course, you were.:_

"Why is it that whenever there's trouble, everyone automatically assumes we're involved?" Draco groused.

The shimmerling gave a soft half-mew of amusement. _:Because, little dragon, nine times out of ten, you ARE involved. Like tonight.:_

Draco couldn't really deny the shimmerling's line of reasoning. "Okay, so we're trouble magnets. But still . . .we're not in trouble _all_ the time, Smidgen."

"Only nine and three quarters of the time," Harry put in.

"Aw, stuff it, Harry. Who asked for your two Knuts?"

"Nobody. You get them free of charge," replied his brother. Smidgen fluttered over and landed next to him on the bed. "Does Dad know you're here?"

_:No. I am not answerable to Severus for everything I do,:_ answered Smidgen, licking her paw. _:I cannot interfere with his discipline of you, but I can watch over you at night, as I have promised. And though there is little here that can harm you, I think you will feel better with me guarding your dreams, yes?:_

"Yeah. Thanks, Smidgen," Harry said gratefully. He reached out to stroke the tiny cat and she purred and rubbed her head against his hand.

Her purring filled his ears and he found himself drifting off to sleep while he listened to the soothing sound.

The shimmerling watched while her charge's eyes shut and he drifted off into dreamland. _:Sleep well, little phoenix. You have naught to fear, not even your father. He is no longer as angry as you think, and he loves you very much, Harry-kit.:_

Then she flew down to Draco's bunk and settled upon the Slytherin's chest. Draco looked at her and smiled. "I'm glad you're here, Smidgen. This way I can get a good night's sleep before I die tomorrow."

_:Hsst, little dragon! You know perfectly well your father would never kill you. Give you a cuff or two perhaps, but such is a sire's prerogative. He will always forgive you, Draco. Not like Lucius. But I think you already know that, don't you?:_

"Yeah, I guess so. Only . . .it helps to hear you say it. I really hate disappointing him like this. And lately, that's all I seem to be doing."

Smidgen began to purr. _:Ah, Draco. You are young, and all younglings make mistakes. Your father knows this. It is part of growing up. Now sleep, hatchling, sleep. Tomorrow is not as bad as it seems.:_

As with Harry, the shimmerling's purr soon sent Draco to sleep as well, and with the fae cat guarding their dreams, they slept till the dawn, only waking when Mac came and rattled the bars of the cell.

"Rise and shine, boyos! Your da himself is here to fetch you home."

The two boys rubbed their eyes and sat up, feeling at once relieved and apprehensive.

As soon as their feet touched the floor, MacKenzie changed their prison garb back into their school robes and uniforms. Then he unlocked the cell door and handed them back their wands. "Sorry you can't stay for breakfast, lads, but your da wants to get you home right quick. I think he's missed you."

"Missed beating the stuffing out of us, sure," Draco mumbled. "Uh . . .on second thought, can we stay an extra day?"

MacKenzie bit back a chuckle, the boy looked the way he imagined he had as a boy when faced with his father's wrath for a similar situation. "Now, lad, I can't keep you here once your fine's been paid, since you haven't committed a crime."

"What if we . . .stole your wand and locked you up?" Harry suggested. "Would that be enough to get arrested again?"

The Auror burst out laughing. "'Fraid not, boyo. You're just gonna have to go home and take your punishment like a man. I'm sure it ain't half as bad as you're thinking."

"Then you sure don't know our father," Harry said, grimacing.

Now Mac began to be alarmed. He knew it was normal for children to fret over being in trouble, but if they were truly frightened of their father . . . "Does he beat you then, child? Is that why you're afraid to go home?" he inquired softly.

Harry was horrified. "_Beat_ us? No! Not like that . . .not ever . . .no! It's just . . .we hate it when he's disappointed in us. And this time we really let him down, so . . ."

"So we really don't want to be lectured and grounded till Christmas," Draco added.

"Then he doesn't knock you around?"

Draco looked him straight in the eye and said firmly, "No, sir. The most he's ever done is a few swats and it was deserved. Nothing like what you're thinking. It's like Harry said, sir. We respect him and we want him to be proud of us, and so . . .we feel guilty when we disappoint him this way."

MacKenzie nodded. "Ah. I understand. That was the way of it with me and my father too." He led them from the cell.

Severus was waiting at the end of the corridor for them, looking forbidding as death in his black robes.

But as soon as they saw him, the two boys found themselves running over to him, and the strict bat of the dungeons opened his arms and hugged them to him.

"I trust you have learned your lesson," he growled softly.

"Yes, Dad," they chorused, still hugging him.

"Good. You know you are in serious trouble, and we will have a very long talk about this once we are home."

"Yes, sir," Harry said automatically.

"Before or after you beat us senseless?" inquired Draco impudently.

"Depends on the mood I'm in," returned his father crisply. "Now let's go back to the castle, you've taken up too much of Auror MacKenzie's time already with your foolishness and I'm sure he can't wait to get rid of you."

"What? We were model prisoners, Dad!" Harry protested, then halted. _Holy Merlin, I can't believe I just said that!_ "Err . . .uh . . ermm . . ."

"Wonderful," drawled Severus sarcastically. "It's every father's dream, to hear those words come out of his son's mouth."

Draco just rolled his eyes at his brother and mouthed, "Idiot!" before taking harry by the arm and dragging him out of the station.

Severus gave the Aurors a nod before gathering his cloak about his lean frame and striding after his two boys, his robes billowing majestically behind him.

"I pity the poor man," MacKenzie said to Finn after he had stopped laughing. "Those two could drive Merlin himself to drink, I'd wager!"

Fifteen minutes later, one penitent Snape and one equally penitent Malfoy made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast, their father's scolding still ringing in their ears. Both were extremely glad to have their punishment and lecture over and done with, though as predicted, Severus had torn strips out of them. Draco had gotten the worst of it, since this was the third time he had gotten in trouble for fighting, no matter who had started it.

_"How many times must we go through this, Draco Michael Malfoy, before you get it through your thick head that your fists are not going to solve your problems for you?"_

_"But, Dad, Krum started it!" interrupted Harry, trying to take some of the heat off of his brother._

_"Quiet, Harry! I'll deal with you later. This is between me and your brother," Severus had said curtly. "I cannot tell you how disappointed I am in your behavior, young man . . ."_

Draco winced in remembrance of the stinging reprimand that had followed, which had hurt worse than the smack his father had given him afterwards. He would rather have taken a thrashing with Lucius's cane than had Severus lecture him, the man's disapproval hurt so much. More even than the fact that he was now grounded until Christmas break and forbidden to participate in any extra-curricular activities.

The two brothers slid into their usual spot at the very end of the Gryffindor table, ever since they had started dating they had taken to eating lunch together, along with their girlfriends and Ron. Ron looked up as they walked over and sat down and said cheerily, "Well, you're alive. I was waiting for the morning paper and was going to look in the obituary column for your names."

"Haha. You're so funny, Weasley," Draco said, scowling.

Ron cocked his head at the blond boy. "Aw, come on, Malfoy, lighten up! Least you're still breathing and can sit down. Thank God Dumbledore refused to release our names to the press. I mean, except yours and Krum's. He couldn't keep that a secret. Because if my mum had ever found out I was arrested and put in the clink . . . .I'd have been walloped six ways to Sunday."

"Ron, you're exaggerating," Hermione protested. "You're fourteen, that's too old to spank."

"Ha! Tell my mum that. She's old school, 'Mione. Meaning that till I'm of age, as long as I live under her roof, she can punish me how she sees fit, up to and including turning me over her knee," the red-head explained. "Just ask the twins or Ginny if you don't believe me."

Hermione sputtered. "I still can't believe . . .well, maybe I can . . .but just because your mother does that is no reason to assume Professor Snape would ever . . ." She halted and looked over at Draco. "Right, Draco?"

Draco lowered his gaze to his plate and did not answer.

She looked at Harry. "Harry, tell me he didn't . . ."

But Harry too would not look at her, and remained silent, the tips of his ears red.

Hermione put a hand to her mouth and Ron burst out laughing.

Katie gave them both a sympathetic look and Hermione glared angrily at Ron, who was laughing so hard he nearly choked.

"It's not funny, Ronald! You ought to know how embarrassing it is being treated like a . . .child at our age, honestly!"

Ron straightened, wiping tears from his eyes. "'Course I do. And that's why our parents do it, so we learn to quit acting like little kids and getting in trouble for everything. Makes us think twice about misbehaving again for a long while. Right, Harry?"

"Something like that," his friend answered. "And it's not like you're thinking either. He didn't spank us. He only gave us one good one with his spoon and it stung for about a minute. Like Ron said, it's more embarrassing than anything. No big deal. Being grounded hurt worse than that. And I got off easier than Draco did, he only grounded me for two weeks, since we didn't start the fight, but we could have walked away instead of continuing it once the Aurors showed up, but I was so mad I just kept going. Last time I ever lose my head like that."

Draco nodded in agreement. "I'd have taken a walloping over the lecture he gave out. And not being able to play Quidditch."

"He banned you from _Quidditch_?" Katie gasped. "That really sucks."

"Tell me something I don't know, Bell," Draco sighed. "But that's what I get for getting in trouble three times for fighting. Three times the punishment."

"Merlin help you if there's a fourth time, Draco," Ron said.

"Please, Weasley. Even I'm not _that_ dumb. I promised him I'd stay out of trouble for the rest of the year, as much as I could."

"Me too," Harry said. Then he added with a devilish smirk, "So if Krum starts anything with us, Ron, it's up to you to kick his arse."

Ron made a face at him. "Why me? So I can get my bum tanned next?"

"If Krum dares to start anything with you, Harry, I'll tan _his_ bum all right." Katie stated. "Right, Hermione? Because nobody messes with our boyfriends."

"Right, Katie. Now _he's_ someone who needs a good spanking," she agreed, then she put her arm about Draco and hugged him. "And I'd be happy to give him one."

"You can borrow Dad's wooden spoon," Draco said slyly.

At that, everyone cracked up, for the image that statement conjured was too funny for words.

Then Hermione asked, very softly, "But wasn't leaving you in jail the whole night punishment enough?"

Draco shrugged. "It sure wasn't any picnic, but like I said before, he wants to make sure we've learned our lesson this time. Me especially."

"And have you?"

"Merlin help us all, yes!" he answered and Harry echoed him.

"Hey, does that mean you can't run the Dueling Club?" Ron asked unhappily.

"Yeah, he said I can't for a week," Harry told him. "So maybe you and Mione could take over for a bit?"

Ron looked thunderstruck. "Me? Run a club?"

"Heavens, Weasley, it's one night, not the rest of your life," Draco remarked. "You'll manage."

"I don't know."

"Oh, Ron, it's easy." Hermione piped up. "You just stand there and agree with everything I say, all right?"

"Same as usual," Harry teased and Ron shot him a black look. "Only kidding. You'll do fine, Ron."

"If you say so." Ron still looked doubtful. "What will you be doing in the meantime, Harry?"

"Trying to brush up on ancient Greek and translate that scroll."

All four of them groaned in sympathy.

"Poor Harry!" said Katie. "Stuck in the library while the rest of us have fun."

Harry shrugged ruefully. "That's what I get for being a Hogwart's champion."

Hedwig dropped a Quibbler into his lap and he was pleased to see that his father had made the front page, with a very cool photo of Severus banishing the lamia and the caption—_Heroism Runs in the Family—Professor Severus Snape Saves the Lives of Students at Triwizard Tournament!_ The article that followed was very well done, stating the facts simply and honestly without any dramatic falsehoods.

_Dad ought to be happy with this piece. _Harry carefully folded it to save for his scrapbook and then continued eating his toast with butter and jam. When he glanced up at the staff table a moment later, his eyes met those of his father, and Severus gave him a small smile. Harry smiled back, knowing that all was forgiven, though he would never forget the lesson he learned and neither would Draco.

**Thanks everyone for reading, hope you enjoyed it!**

*****Before I go on to write the next chapter, I am writing a story for Halloween involving Katie, Harry, & Severus that needs to be read before I write the next chapter of RPM, something important happens in it, which has a great deal to do with the tournament's next task. I have been working on it for the last few days and have just posted the first chapter and would appreciate it if you would all review it! I felt it was important enough to deserve its own story. It's called Prince Manor: Bubble Bubble.**

**Next up: Harry attempts to translate his scroll and learns what the other champions have to translate as well.**


	20. Lost In Translation

**Lost In Translation**

All that week, after class, Harry remained in the library, trying in vain to learn enough ancient Greek to translate the scroll he had won from the lamia. But the few primers about ancient Greek he found weren't enough to help him. It was like an exercise in frustration. He felt like banging his head into a wall. He shut his book with a snap finally and got up to walk around, fighting the urge to throw the book on the floor like a four-year-old in a tantrum. _No one ever told me I was going to have to be a bloody linguist in order to participate in this tournament! This is worse than one of Dad's punishment essays._

He walked past a table where Cedric was seated, poring over his own scroll, surrounded by heaps of books. "Hey, Cedric. Any luck with yours?"

The Hufflepuff looked up and shook his head, smiling ruefully. "Not really. It's harder to translate hieroglyphics than you'd think. I didn't know there were variations and just when I think I've figured out a sentence, something doesn't make sense." He sighed. "Makes me wish I could go to Egypt and dig up a pharaoh or two."

"I know what you mean. I wish I could resurrect Homer or something." Harry said feelingly. "But there must be some way we could translate the scrolls without tearing our hair out. I just don't know what it is."

Cedric nodded. "Well, so far I've managed to translate two lines and it's still not making much sense. But at least I don't have to deal with cuneiform, like Fleur, or Aramaic, like Krum. That's what they were trying to translate last night while you were . . .err . . ."

"Locked up in jail?" Harry offered, giving Cedric an identical rueful grin. "It's okay, I'm sure everyone's been talking about it. In fact, I'm surprised it's not been in the paper yet."

Cedric started snickering. "You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"That reporter for the Prophet, Rita Skeeter, she tried to get information from some of the students about what happened at Hogsmeade. I think Krum was all set to blame you for the whole ruckus, but just as she was about to use that quill of hers, Dumbledore comes along and tells her that any statements she wishes to have he will give her, and to not harass the students. And Skeeter turns white as a dead corpse and starts stammering that of course she'd love to interview the Headmaster. And then Dumbledore takes her away and whatever dirt she was planning to write about you, Harry, never showed up in the papers. I mean, people know about the brawl, and that you and Krum were involved, but not that you . . .uh were held overnight. I wonder if he hexed her quill."

"Or maybe her tongue," Harry laughed. He was very glad that this time the Headmaster had stepped in and stopped some of the incessant gossip that always seemed to hound him from dawn till dusk. And though he couldn't prevent the students from knowing what had gone on that night at Hogsmeade, at least the whole wizarding world didn't need to know that he had spent the night in jail as an object lesson. "She's such a little viper."

"Mm . . .More like a mosquito, to my way of thinking," Cedric said. "Sucks all the blood from you and then goes on to the next victim."

"Then you don't like her either?"

"Like her? Oh, Merlin, I think I'd like a case of dragon pox better! The way she twists up whatever you say . . .makes me glad I don't have too much in my past for her to . . .fabricate."

"Unlike me," sighed Harry.

"People will always talk," Cedric said. "But maybe you'll just have to give them something else to talk about."

"You're right," Harry grinned. "Well, guess I'll leave you to your translating and go and take a walk or something."

He was starting to get a headache and he needed some fresh air. Since he was forbidden to play Quidditch and he also assumed that ban extended to flying in general, as it had when he had gotten in trouble at Prince Manor, Harry decided to walk over to the seventh floor, where the Room of Requirement was, and the current session of the Dueling Club.

Harry summoned his Invisibility Cloak and put it on before entering the room, wishing to observe what was going on without anyone the wiser.

Ron and Hermione were standing at the front of the room, and the other members of the club were standing in rows, looking up at the two expectantly. Ron cleared his throat awkwardly and gave them a rather sickly smile. "Uh . . .all right . . .well, Hermione and I are . . .going to take over the club this week . . .because Professor Snape says Harry and Draco are grounded, but anyway . . .let's start with some of the usual exercises and then we'll teach you a new spell." He looked over at Hermione, who looked faintly nervous.

But then she smiled and said, "Yes, well, I think we could all learn a spell that proofs us against poison, especially a poisoned dagger or a knitting needle."

Ron and half of the class looked at her askance. "A _knitting needle_? Blimey, Hermione—"

"What? I read a mystery once where the suspect murdered a barrister with one, stabbed him right through the leg and acted like it was an accident and he fell down dead not twenty minutes later and no one knew because after all who would suspect an old lady with a knitting needle? So you see, Ron, it's—"

"Take a breath, Hermione," Ron ordered with a sigh. "I get it, you don't need to recite the book. Merlin!" Some of the other boys chuckled at his expression. "So, after we practice a bit of what we already know, to keep our hand in like, we'll be demonstrating the Poison Protection Charm. Quite useful, really. Right, Hermione?"

"Yes, Ronald," Hermione said primly.

Harry snickered as well, thinking that Hermione looked as indignant as Crookshanks when he missed catching a plump mouse.

But her ruffled feathers soon settled as they paired up the members and they began to practice.

Harry noted that Neville and Luna had really improved since the beginning of the club. They were less hesitant and more confident when they cast their spells and blocked those sent their way in return. He smiled wistfully at Katie, who was paired off with Blaise Zabini, and noted that Hannah and Goyle were also improved from the last class. He was curious about the new spell, it was one he had never heard of. Trust Hermione to come up with a spell that none of them knew but which could, as she had said, prove very useful.

"Nice one, Cho!" Hermione called, as the Ravenclaw deflected a Stinging hex shot from her partner Ginny's wand.

"Gotta aim a bit higher, Padma," Ron said as he watched one of the Patil twins duel Marcus Flint.

Harry had to admit that watching that pair was a bit like watching Beauty and the Beast, but it seemed that Padma could hold her own against the cagey Flint, who actually wasn't attempting to cheat or knock the wind out of her. In fact, he seemed to be behaving with considerable restraint and even helped her up off the floor when his Wind Gust spell knocked her down.

_Well, I'll be. When Draco and I started this club, we did it as a way to practice spells that we should have been learning in class and also to promote unity between the Houses. But even I never thought it'd make some of us consider a different kind of unity._ He eyed Padma and Marcus again, then shrugged and grinned. Whatever worked, and more power to her if she could tame the Slytherin Captain.

His gaze shifted to his own lady love, and saw that she was trouncing Zabini, who seemed overwhelmed by her sudden ferocity. _That's my girl, Katie! Show him how well a lioness fights._

He continued watching for another twenty minutes, until Ron called a rest period and then had them work out against the magicked dummies. After fifteen minutes, it was time for Hermione's lesson.

She drew herself up tall and said firmly, "This charm was one that was used quite frequently back in the Middle Ages, when it was common for certain high-ranking wizards to fear assassination by rival families, especially in Florence and Padua. I found a reference for it one day in the library and I asked Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape to assist me in learning how to cast it." She took her wand and pointed it up and tilted towards her chest. "This spell requires a good deal of concentration, and you must speak the words clearly for them to have any effect. Watch closely now. _Averto toxica!_"

A large blue ribbon shot out from the wand and curled about her, spreading out to encase her in a glowing shield. It seemed to sink into her skin, leaving only a faint wisp of blu to linger on her skin. "It tingles a bit at first, but that's how you'll know you did it right, and it lasts for two or three hours before fading."

Ron drew his wand and said, "The spell I'm about to cast is called Viper's Venom, and it'll show you just how well the spell protects against poison. _Serpente venoni!_"

A thick green liquid shot out of his wand and hit Hermione in the chest.

Several of the girls gasped, but then they quieted when they saw that the venom pooled up and slid off of her as if she were water and it were oil.

"There! You see?" Hermione said, smiling. "Not so hard, is it? Now, let's try it, okay?"

All of them pointed their wands at themselves and started to cast the spell, with varying results. As Hermione had said, it required concentration to get the spell cast correctly. No one got it right the first time, though Ginny and Katie came close.

It took the remainder of the time allotted for the club for some of the members to cast the spell right. "You can practice more over the weekend," Hermione said to them. "You all did very well for your first time."

"Class dismissed!" Ron yelled.

As the students left, talking and joking among themselves, Ron turned to Hermione and said, "I always wanted to say that."

Hermione laughed. "Oh, Ron! It's too bad Harry and Draco couldn't have seen this. I wonder what they'd have thought. I don't think we did too badly."

Harry threw off his cloak. "No, you did really well, 'Mione."

Both of them jumped.

"Harry, how long have you been there?" Ron asked.

"What were you doing there, anyhow?" asked Hermione.

"Making sure you did things right," he teased.

"Good one, Professor Snape Junior," Ron shot back, giving his friend a smart cuff on the shoulder.

"Where's Draco? Is he hiding somewhere in here too?" Hermione asked, looking hopeful. "I've barely seen him at all this week, except in class."

"No, I'd guess he's doing some kind of detention with my father. Maybe you can talk to him tomorrow."

"You still under house arrest?" Ron asked sympathetically.

"Till the end of the week. Meantime though, I'm still trying to translate that bloody scroll." He looked up at Hermione hopefully. "Um . . .if you have time, 'Mione, I could really use your help. Trying to translate a language nobody speaks anymore is a real pain in the arse."

"Well, let me see what you've got so far," Hermione said, all business.

_Hardly anything,_ Harry thought wryly. Then he led the way down the stairs to the library, where his books and papers were.

* * * * *

To his dismay, the avowed bookworm of Hogwarts couldn't make heads or tails of the books or the scroll. "I'm sorry, Harry. I wish I could help you, but I just . . .this is too complicated even for me to grasp." She yawned. "Forgive me, maybe I could try again tomorrow. If I had more time to study on it . . ."

She looked so downcast that Harry put his arm around her. "Don't worry, Hermione. It's really my riddle to solve, and I guess I'll just have to figure it out on my own."

Hermione cheered up a little. "Maybe your Uncle Phil could help?"

Harry shook his head. "I asked, but he said what I just told you."

"Oh. Well then. Guess I'd better be getting back upstairs. I have to finish some homework before I go to sleep."

"Good night, 'Mione."

"Good night, Harry. Sleep on it, maybe something will come to you in the morning," Hermione offered.

"I'll try." He turned to gather up his books and the scroll and they walked up to Gryffindor Tower together.

* * * * * *

But Thursday and Friday brought no new ideas or inspirations to Harry, who went through his classes mechanically and picked at his dinner. Draco, who was also under sentence still, asked him if anything was wrong. "No. It's just the scroll."

"Still haven't figured it out yet?" Draco asked.

"No. I feel like I'm trying to read backwards with a blindfold on." He nibbled at his pork cutlet.

Draco looked at his nearly full plate and said, "Better eat, Harry. Dad's watching."

Harry cast a glance up towards the staff table, and saw a pair of familiar black eyes observing. He quickly picked up his fork and forced himself to eat a mouthful of potatoes. No sense in bringing his father down on him for skipping meals.

"How about asking Smidgen?" Draco whispered. "She's been around, she might know a bit about old dead languages. How are the others doing?"

Harry shrugged. "Cedric wasn't all that thrilled and Krum and Fleur were having trouble too. It's a real challenge."

"Well, that's why it's a task in the Triwizard Tournament. You still have over two months, you know. And the holidays are coming up."

"The Yule Ball too." Harry said. "I'm really looking forward to that. Except for the dancing. Even after McGonagall's dance lessons, I still feel like a clumsy idiot."

"You do? You're not as bad as Greg," Draco said. He had already learned how to dance, it was something all purebloods were taught as part of their early education. "You'll be fine."

"That makes me feel real good, Draco." Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"I'll give you some pointers, so you don't make a complete ass of yourself," said his brother loftily.

Harry glared at him and kicked him under the table.

Draco sniggered.

Hermione gave them both her best disapproving-Mum look, and sighed pointedly.

Draco contrived to look innocent and Harry looked guilty.

Ron tittered and said, "You do that really well, 'Mione. Reminds me of my mum. Guess I can tell who'll be laying down the law when _you_ have kids."

Before either of the shocked teenagers could respond to that comment, a large gray owl flew drunkenly inbetween the salt cellar and the pepper mill. He was carrying a large red envelope in his beak.

Ron took one look at it and gulped. "Oh no . . .no . . .Errol, please . . .not _another_ one . . ."

Harry and Draco both winced.

"I guess she found out, huh, Ron?" Hermione said sadly. "Oh dear."

Errol practically crash landed in Ron's plate, not that it mattered, because as soon as the owl had reached Ron, and released the envelope, the Howler unfolded and Mrs. Weasley's voice exploded through the hall like a banshee.

RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!

WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, GOING TO HOGSMEADE AND GETTING INVOLVED IN A . . .A BARROOM BRAWL?!! HONESTLY, CAN YOU NEVER STAY OUT OF TROUBLE? YOU WOULD THINK AT LEAST ONE OF MY CHILDREN WOULD DISPLAY SOME KIND OF SENSE AT LEAST! AND TO ADD INSULT TO INJURY—YOU GET ARRESTED! MY SON—ARRESTED! EVEN THE TWINS NEVER MANAGED THAT! YOUR FATHER IS SO ASHAMED, HE CAN HARDLY HOLD HIS HEAD UP AT WORK. **I** FOUND OUT WHEN MRS. MULLIN PASSED ME IN DIAGON ALLEY AND TOLD ME—IMAGINE MY SHOCK! I NEARLY PASSED OUT! HOW COULD YOU SHAME THE FAMILY LIKE THIS, RONALD? BE QUIET, ARTHUR, YOU'LL GET YOUR TURN LATER . . .NEVER BEEN SO **EMBARRASSED** IN MY LIFE! THIS WAS **NOT** HOW I RAISED YOU, YOUNG MAN, TO GET INTO FIGHTS—I DON'T CARE WHAT IT WAS FOR, BILL—AND GET CARTED OFF TO JAIL LIKE A—A HOOLIGAN! AND HARRY, I'M SURPRISED AT YOU TOO! I KNOW YOUR FATHER TAUGHT YOU BETTER. YOU OUGHT TO BE ASHAMED—AND YOUR FATHER A PROFESSOR TOO! RONALD, HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU—NEVER SOLVE A PROBLEM WITH YOUR FISTS? OR YOUR WAND? MUST I USE MY WOODEN SPOON BEFORE IT SINKS IN? YOU OUGHT TO THANK DUMBLEDORE FOR POSTING THE SICKLES FOR YOU TO GET OUT OF THERE, BECAUSE IF I HAD TO DO IT, YOU'D BE SORRIER THAN A CAT LEFT OUT IN THE RAIN! WE'RE GOING TO HAVE A LONG TALK WHEN YOU GET HOME . . .A VERY LONG TALK . . .

Here Molly's voice turned ominous and Ron turned fishbelly white. "Yes, Mum," he whispered. But the Howler was not quite through yet.

HERE'S YOUR FATHER.

--RON, I'M VERY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU AND I AGREE WITH YOUR MUM,began Mr. Weasley.

--BUT REALLY, DID YOU KNOCK DOWN ANYONE, AT LEAST? BECAUSE I—

--OH, GIVE ME THAT, ARTHUR!

--SO YOU'D BEST BEHAVE FROM NOW TILL HOLIDAY, RONALD, BECAUSE IF I HEAR ONE MORE THING ABOUT YOUR BEHAVIOR, I'M GOING TO COME DOWN THERE AND PULL YOU RIGHT OUT OF HOGWARTS AND ENROLL YOU IN A DISCPLINARY ACADEMY, AM I UNDERSTOOD? ONE MORE THING!

Finally it was over and while most of the students in the hall were laughing, others were giving Ron sympathetic looks.

Ron buried his face in his hands and groaned. "I am so dead when I get home. How did Mrs. Mullin find out? How?"

"Maybe that snitch Skeeter told her?" suggested Draco. "She'd follow you to your own execution to get a story."

"Could be," Hermione said.

"I guess it doesn't matter." He carefully used his wand to sweep away the red confetti that the Howler left behind and then returned to eating his dinner. His face was nearly as red as his hair.

His friends all remained staring down at their plates, but they didn't eat, and Harry even managed to evade Snape's eagle eyes and get away with eating a muffin and a tiny bit of meat rather than a whole dinner.

Harry counted himself lucky, then went off to find Smidgen, calling for her silently.

* * * * * *

Smidgen perched upon Harry's shoulder, eyeing the scroll and then giving a soft mew of distress. _:Ah Harry, I know many tongues, but a shimmerling has no need to read them, only speak them, and this is not one I know. But perhaps another of my kin may be able to help.:_

"Who?"

Smidgen looked up at him, her violet eyes shimmering in amusement. _:A certain seafaring horse of our acquaintance. One who used to live as a mortal once upon a time, and certainly_ _would be familiar with mortal languages.:_

Harry felt a grin cover his face. "You're right! Thanks, Smidgen! Maybe he could give me some pointers on where to start."

_:I would think so.:_

He checked his watch, and noted it was almost time for class. He waved a quick goodbye to Smidgen and then hurried off for the first class of the day, Transfiguration.

_* * * * * *_

It was dusk by the time Harry had a moment free to go down to the lake. He almost smiled, for the darkening sky reminded him of the first time he had gone down to the lake, on Halloween night, only then he had been with Katie and had not known of the fae creature that lived sometimes in the lake. He hurried down the path to the lake, which was calm and peaceful looking beneath the purple twilight sky.

There was nothing on the surface of it to lead one to believe that what lay beneath was anything but peaceful. As Harry knew perfectly well, from his adventures with Severus down in the depths to rescue Katie from the attentions of a certain kelpie. A kelpie who was now his friend, oddly enough. *

Harry knelt down at the water's edge and put his hand into the swirling cool water. _Anytime you have need of my services, simply put your hand or foot into the water and speak my name._

"Duncan!"

Then he withdrew his hand and sat down, anxiously awaiting a reply.

He did not have long to wait. The center of the lake began to froth and bubble and then it erupted in a spray of silvery water and from it emerged a glossy black horse, a magnificent stallion with shells and seaweed braided into his flowing mane and tail. The horse glided on the top of the water as if it were ice. His eyes, which were a deep icy blue, glittered with goodwill.

"Harry, my friend! Well met again." The kelpie greeted, dipping his head. His hooves made no sound upon the lakeshore.

He paused beside the boy, the water sheening his black hide, making it look like ebony satin.

"Hi."

"And how is the lovely Lady Katherine?" Duncan queried softly.

"She's good."

"And do you still love her then?"

Harry met the fae horse's eyes steadily. "I do."

The kelpie snorted. "Ah, well. I wish you joy, young wizard. May you know the love I did with my Albia. What did you wish to speak with me about?"

"Um . . .how many languages do you speak, Duncan? And can you read them too?"

The water horse whinnied. "Several, Harry. Why?"

"Because I . . .have a scroll I need to translate for the Triwizard Tournament." Harry coughed. "It's in ancient Greek and I've tried to translate it but . . .I'd appreciate it if you could give me some pointers. You don't have to translate the whole thing, but . . ."

"Show me this impossible scroll, Harry, and then we shall see," the kelpie ordered, and then he shimmered and transformed into a very handsome man, with the almond-shaped eyes and pointed ears of one of the fae lords. He had jet black hair that fell in a swath down his back, and he was dressed in a fine velvet tunic and breeches with shiny black boots. In his hair were small shell ornaments and a pearl rested in one ear.

Harry stared up at him, the scroll forgotten in his hand. "Merlin! But you're . . .a man!"

Duncan laughed. "Yes, for now. Just so did my Albia see me one summer's day. And everyday after that, once we had pledged our troth. Why so surprised? You know that I'm able to change shape."

"I know, but . . .never mind!" Harry laughed. "Here." He handed the kelpie the scroll.

Duncan handled it reverently. He muttered a small spell and the parchment was lit up, glowing softly so that he could read it. "This is quite old. Ancient Greek, I believe."

"Can you . . .read it?"

The kelpie was silent for a moment. His lips moved softly, almost inaudibly. Then he looked up, and in his eyes was a look of mischief. "Oh, yes. I spent much time off the coast of Greece, the waters of the Aegean are simply marvelous. It has been many centuries since I have read it though, so if you're expecting a swift translation, I'm afraid I must disappoint you."

"I . . .well, like I said . . .I don't need you to translate all of it, Duncan."

"And why not?"

"Well, I don't think you're . . .umm . . .allowed. The rules of the tournament," Harry began.

"Rules?" the kelpie sounded amused. "Were you told specifically that _you_ had to translate the scroll? Or that you had to find a means to translate it?" He asked shrewdly.

Harry thought back to when Crouch had spoken to them of the second task. "Uh, he just said I had to translate the scroll and solve the riddle by February 24th. And that our parents or relatives or teachers couldn't help us with the tasks."

"How about friends?"

Harry considered. "They didn't say anything about friends."

"Then you wouldn't be breaking any rules if I helped you. Not that I care, since your rules have no bearing on me. But, if you like, I shall teach you the basics of ancient Greek while I am trying to translate this scroll."

"You will?"

"Aye, but only because I can tell you'd fret yourself to a shadow if I didn't," the kelpie smirked. "Is there a place we might go to besides the lakeshore? It's fine for me, but you mortals are fragile things, and I don't wish your father to skin me should you fall ill."

"You could come into the castle, I guess. The Room of Requirement should be okay for us to use," Harry said. "We could use my Invisibility Cloak."

Duncan snorted in amusement. "No need for that, Harry. I am fae, and when I don't wish a mortal to see me, they won't."

"Oh. That's right, the Glamour," Harry said. "I knew that."

Swirling his cloak about his tall frame, Duncan vanished from Harry's view.

Then the kelpie and the half-fae wizard returned to the castle, where Harry spent the rest of the night in the Room of Requirement, learning the Greek alphabet and elementary phrases while Duncan perused the scroll, writing down lines and then crossing them out.

Eventually, Harry felt his head begin to nod and then he began to drift.

When the kelpie looked up, he saw the boy's head lying upon the table, and Harry's eyes were closed in blissful slumber. A smile touched his lips, and the kelpie rose and lifted the boy in his arms. "I believe you need your rest, youngling. Time for you to be in bed." He whispered two soft words of magic, and then Harry vanished from his arms, to reappear safe and sound and none the wiser in his bed.

With that, Duncan turned back to the scroll. Unlike his mortal friend, his body did not require sleep for long periods of time and so he remained awake for the rest of the night, translating the scroll diligently, in keeping with a promise he had made that same Halloween night.

He paused once or twice, lost in memories of another time and place. _Ah, Albia. Had the gods seen fit to bless us with a child, I would have wished him to be a son just like Harry Snape. Honorable and spirited and brave, a son to make a father proud. You are blessed, Severus Snape, blessed thrice by Fortune. Perhaps, one day, Fortune shall smile upon me._

Then he returned to his self-appointed task, and when the first rays of the sun touched the tops of the trees, the kelpie set down his quill, his task complete.

He carefully folded the original and the translated piece along with a short note into an envelope and sealed it, then he sent it to lie next to the still sleeping Harry. Cloaking himself in Glamour, Duncan hummed happily as he descended the stairs and returned to the lake to hunt up some lunch, translating always made him famished.

***For the full story of the kelpie and that Halloween night Harry refers to read Prince Manor: Bubble Bubble, if you haven't already. It's an important short fic to the series.**

**Well, it was a long time coming but I hope you liked this one! You'll see Duncan again in part two of this novel.**

**Next: The Yule Ball, with unexpected guests. **


	21. The Time of My Life

**The Time of My Life**

****The title of this chapter is taken from the song of the same name, because this chapter is dedicated to the late Patrick Swayze, one of my favorite actors, whose performance in Dirty Dancing was unforgettable. Rest in peace, Patrick! You are missed!****

Harry woke the next day from a pleasant dream of himself and Katie walking along a seashore, listening to the waves crash against the shore, their feet cooled deliciously by the surf. He sat up, only then wondering how he had gotten back in his bed and also realizing he was still wearing his clothes. He rubbed his eyes and put his glasses back on. Duncan must have put him to bed, he reasoned, but had forgotten to change his clothes to pajamas, the way Severus usually did. Still, he was grateful to the kelpie for doing that at all and wasn't about to quibble over trivialities.

He looked down as something crackled beneath his hand and saw a letter addressed to him, written in an unfamiliar hand. He carefully opened it, and found the original scroll inside, plus another paper with Duncan's translation and a note. He read the note first.

_Harry,_

_I have finished translating what the scroll said. It is a riddle, but not one I am familiar with, though given enough time I am sure I could figure it out. I am sorry I cannot stay longer, but the sea is calling me and I must swim. Good luck with the figuring and take care of Lady Katherine for me. If you have need of me again, you have but to call._

_Best wishes and may the sea grant you peace and harmony._

_Ever your friend,_

_Duncan_

Harry smiled. The parchment even smelled a bit like the briny deep. He tucked it in his pocket, then unfolded the translation.

On it was the following riddle:

_With no wings, I fly_

_With no eyes, I see_

_With no arms, I climb_

_More frightening than any beast,_

_Stronger than any foe,_

_I am cunning, ruthless_

_And tall_

_In the end, I rule all._

_What am I?_

Harry's brow wrinkled and he tried to puzzle what it could be, but he just wasn't up to handling hard riddles this early in the morning. He carefully put the translation into the scroll case, he would show it to Hermione later and see what she made of it. He swung his legs over the side of the bed but before he could stand up, a strange black owl flew in the window, carrying two letters addressed to _Harry Snape, Hogwarts School._

The owl landed on his arm and held out the letters. Harry took them and called some owl treats from his trunk into his hand for the black avian. "Here you go. You did double duty today, you ought to go rest up in the Owlery." The owl took the treats daintily and flew away.

Ron stuck his head out from his bed and said sleepily, "Who's sending you mail this early in the morning, Harry?"

"Uh . . .I don't know. Guess I'll find out." He opened the first letter and smiled. "It's from Snuffles!" he told Ron softly.

_Dear Harry,_

_Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner, but I was trying to contact Dumbledore and couldn't get a hold of him right away. I wanted to ask him how in bloody hell he could let you become involved in something as dangerous as the Triwizard Tournament. I'll bet Snape was ready to spit nails, like I was. Your aunt was horrified too, kept asking if there wasn't something I could do, like kidnap you, to prevent you from participating. I had to slip her a Calming Draught in her tea and explain to her about binding magical contracts before she quit breathing fire. She's some lady, your aunt._

_I would have to agree with the old man and say that your name was placed in the goblet by someone who wishes you harm. So please be on your guard, Harry. Watch your back, okay. That first task was terribly dangerous, I'm glad you managed to overcome the lamia with a minimum of injury. Has your dad taught you a Conjunctivitis Charm yet? That will temporarily blind a foe if you cast it right. It was a favorite of us Aurors back when I was still on the force. If you don't know it, ask your dad to show you._

_For once I'm glad that Snape's your dad, Harry, because he's one tough bugger and a good man to have in a fight, he knows how to kick your arse six ways to Sunday. I don't worry all that much if he's around, because he'll die to defend you, kid. _

_Sorry we can't come visit for Christmas, but it's too dangerous right now for me to venture out and Petunia and Dudley don't want to leave me alone on the holiday, so they're staying with me. We'll send you gifts, though. Hell, I think Tuney's even bought a gift for young Malfoy and old Pricklepuss there. _

_You might start to wonder just what is going on over here with your aunt and cousin. Truth is, I'm not quite sure, but I think I'm falling in love with her and even your cousin is growing on me. I know, I know, it's a shock right? Well, even us old dogs get lonely, kid, and Tuney is something else. She's brave and smart and while she may not be model gorgeous, she's pretty enough to make me look twice. What she endured at the hands of that beast is something no woman should, and that's not something I say lightly. She doesn't really talk about it, but I've held her after a nightmare plenty of times, and she's done the same for me._

_And Dudley's changed too from when I last wrote. He's turned over a new leaf and finally decided to grow up. He's lost a lot of weight, don't think you'd recognize him if you saw him, and he's learned that there's more to life than eating and video games and getting your own way all the time. He's finally discovered himself, I guess you'd say._

_Matter of fact, he wanted to write you too, and I told him I'd send along his letter with mine._

_Tuney sends you her love._

_Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Take care now, kid!_

_Love ya,_

_Snuffles_

Harry knew his jaw was hanging open like a dimwit, but he couldn't help it. _Sirius is in LOVE with my AUNT. With AUNT PETUNIA. Holy good God, I cannot believe this! When did it happen? How did it happen? Scratch that—I don't want to know. Do I? Who in the world would have thought? Wait till I tell Dad, and Draco, and should I tell Ron and Hermione?_

"Harry? Is it bad news? You look like you got hit in the head with a brick." Ron said.

"No, it's just . . .surprising." Harry said. Then he picked up the other letter.

He recognized Dudley's square messy print immediately. He quickly tore open the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_Guess you're wondering why I'm writing this to you. I mean, we didn't really get on and last time you saw me I tried to knock your head off. Mum said I should tell you I'm sorry for doing that, and I am, just so you know. Since moving in here with Siri I've learned to see things different than I have before. _

_At home, Dad used to tell me that I should have anything I wanted because I was his son and you were just our freaky poor relative that would come to a bad end. Looking back on it, we treated you rotten, me and Dad 'specially. I never thought it was wrong till I came here and Siri sat me down and we talked about what happened and why it happened._

_He was mad—mostly at my dad—for what he did to you and Mum. I . . .never knew he hit her. I . . .when I found out . . .I was just . . .it's not something you ever want to think on, that your dad hurt your mum. That's wrong, he was wrong, and I was wrong too, for following him like a robot. Sorry. That's not enough, but it's all I know how to say._

_I probably ought to say sorry to your dad—Uncle Severus—too, for behaving like a royal brat when he was at our house last time. Yeah, you're probably falling over right now hearing me call your dad that and say I was wrong. Feels kind of weird—in a good way. Mum says Uncle Severus is a decent man, even if he did threaten to wallop me, and that he'll give you a good home and a family. I hear you've got a brother now. What's he like? Hope he's not a bugger like I was. _

_Funny, but when I first moved in here I was sure I'd hate it and hate Sirius too. I mean, this place was like a dump compared to our old house and Sirius was a wizard like you and Uncle Severus, and I didn't trust him. I was upset and mad at Mum, I kind of blamed her for Dad dying. I was a stupid brat and I acted worse, till Sirius gave me what-for. Mum too. Took me awhile to see that, I was used to Dad saying I was perfect and I didn't owe anybody anything. _

_But being with Siri and Mum, living sort of like regular people, with no TV and no game systems (and that REALLY sucked) made me think and look at stuff I never had before. I played with Snuffles, it's so cool that he can become a dog. Wish I could become an animal. I think I might like to become a horse. We went for walks and I started to lose some weight. Now I like running around outside and Siri taught me how to play catch and some wizard card games. And I could see now that he wasn't a freak, and magic is kind of cool. _

_Mum really likes him a lot, and I almost died when I figured THAT out, but now I'm okay with it. Siri's not like Dad, he doesn't expect her to wait on him and he asks her for advice and they talk. Siri's funny, he likes to joke around and make me and Mum laugh, he hardly ever gets mad. Not unless I take an attitude with my mum or him. Then he can get madder than blazes, sort of like Uncle Severus. But I'm not afraid of him, like I was with my dad. Siri wouldn't ever hurt me, and once he punishes me it's over, he doesn't bring it up again. So . . .if he ever does marry Mum, I won't mind too much._

_I think I wrote a book here, and I've got chores to do, so I'll just say have a Merry Christmas and all that._

_Dudley_

Harry wondered if he were still dreaming, those two letters were making his mind reel. He was still in a sort of daze about Sirius' revelation that he loved Petunia and he assumed his aunt returned his godfather's affections. And then Dudley's confession or whatever you called it . . .his cousin really _had_ changed if he could admit that he had been wrong for all those years and regretted what he had been and done. Harry wondered if Sirius had magicked him somehow, then he shook his head. It would take more than a Personality Altering Charm to change Dudley so much, such things had to come from within, and from an honest desire to want to change, as Harry had learned over the summer at the manor with Draco. _All of us have changed as the result of one secret being revealed. Me, Dad, Draco, Aunt Petunia, Sirius, and even Dudley. Changed for the better. Now I have a family that actually wants me, I'm not the freaky outcast Potter any more. _

And that felt better than drinking a Euphoria Draft.

Ron was watching his friend's expression change from shock to acceptance and then to a sort of goofy smile. "Harry? What's up with you? You look like you just won a thousand Galleons."

Harry looked up at his friend. "It's complicated, but . . .I just got a letter from my cousin Dudley too."

"The fat one that was always such a prat to you?"

"Yeah, but . . .he's not like that anymore. Living with Snuffles changed him, he's not the spoiled snot that used to pound on me according to Sirius and he even wrote a letter to me apologizing and stuff."

"Wow! Guess that's good though. You gonna see him over the holiday?"

"No. Can't. But we'll be going back home to the manor. I've missed being home."

"Me too. Except for the fact that my mum's probably going to smack me a couple of good ones when I get home."

"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry began.

Ron waved off his apology. "Hell, Harry, it was worth it to see Krum get what was coming to him. Never thought I'd say this, but Malfoy has a damn good right hook. Where'd he learn to fight like that? Your dad teach him?"

"Yeah and me too. But we're only allowed to use _kin-sa-dor_ to defend ourselves in a real fight. Come on, let's get dressed and go eat, I have a few other things to tell you." Harry said. He put his letters in his trunk and locked it, then he got dressed quietly, his mind full of new and astonishing thoughts.

* * * * * *

That afternoon, he met Katie down by the lake and they had a small picnic lunch, just the two of them. Since the incident on Halloween night, he found it much easier to talk with her and share things of a personal nature that he wouldn't have dreamed of doing before. He told her about Duncan helping him with the scroll and she had smiled and said, "So he kept his promise after all. Not that I doubted he would. He doesn't seem like the type to break his word and didn't you tell me once that the fae can't lie?"

"Yes, but they can tell half-truths, that's why you have to be careful when you deal with them. Especially if they're Dark Court. But Duncan isn't. He asked for you."

Katie chuckled. "What did he say?"

"He asked how you were and then he warned me that if I didn't take care of you, he'd be there to take my place."

"Poor Duncan! I feel bad for him, Harry. He's smitten with me because I look like his Albia, in a way. I wish we could help him find someone else, someone who needs him as much as he needs someone."

"Katie, he's a thousand year old kelpie! I'm sure he doesn't need two fourteen-year-old's playing matchmaker."

"I'm not playing matchmaker, Harry. Just trying to help, is all. And being a thousand years old or something doesn't mean you can't use a bit of help every now and then."

"What are you scheming, Miss Bell?"

"I'm not . . .scheming, just thinking about possibilities."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Must be the fact that the Yule Ball's getting closer. You want every eligible man paired up for the evening."

She giggled. "I do not! I just feel sorry that Duncan's so alone. Is he handsome in his human form?"

"Uh . . .I'm not into guys that way, but . . .yeah, I'd say so. He looks like a fae lord and they can make a girl stop dead in the middle of traffic."

"Good. That makes it easier. Now . . .what girls do we know that aren't currently involved with anyone, have a good head on their shoulders, and aren't afraid of trying something different, like maybe dating a water horse?"

Harry thought for a moment, then said softly, "What about Luna Lovegood? She's a Ravenclaw and she's a bit mystical. She's not dating anyone that I know of and she would probably be fascinated with Duncan if she met him. I mean, she talks to and pets thestrals."

"And sees wrackspurts and other things," Katie chuckled. "Only thing is, she's a blond."

"Well, maybe Duncan needs to broaden his horizons and go out with a blond this time," Harry said.

"Maybe. And if she let me do her hair and lend her some pretty clothes . . .I mean some of her clothes are really strange, but I guess that's to be expected, since she has no mum or sisters to help her, and her dad wouldn't know what fashion was if it hit him, like most men . . .she wouldn't look so awkward and odd and maybe he might be willing to talk to her. It can't hurt, right?"

"Right. I'll summon him again the night of the Yule Ball. And if he agrees to meet her, she can go to the ball with him." Harry smirked. "And oh . . .will they turn heads all right!"

Katie smiled. "I hope it works out." Then she kissed her boyfriend, whom she adored for his compassionate nature as much as she did for his unflinching courage.

They spent the rest of their lunch period nibbling on the food they had brought and kissing inbetween bites, managing to enjoy the afternoon even though it was a bit nippy and they had to cast Warmth Charms over their blanket and clothes. Harry told Katie about Sirius and Dudley's letters and she said it was good that all of his family was getting along and hopefully it would stay that way.

* * * * * *

At dinner that night in Severus' quarters, it was Saturday and Harry normally ate at least one meal in private with Severus, Phil, and Draco, Harry broke the story of Sirius, Petunia, and Dudley. Draco, who knew of Dudley through Harry's stories of his cousin, murmured, "Well it's about time the big baby grew up!"

Severus looked partially amused and surprised and said calmly, "If anyone could make Sirius Black grow up and become a responsible adult, it's Petunia. She always was a bossy thing back when we were children, always had to have the last word, and I never understood why she married that waste of breath Dursley. Black can be an impulsive idiot at times, but at least he won't hurt her or her son. I've no doubt she'll have him jumping through hoops before long, he never could resist a woman."

Phil chuckled. "One of those, eh?" he gave Severus a knowing look.

"And then some," remarked the Potions Master dryly.

"I think Sirius will make her happy," Harry said.

"I sincerely hope so." His father said, helping himself to more salad. "How are you coming along with your translation of that scroll?"

"Good," Harry answered, looking down at his plate. It was not a lie, but Harry didn't want Severus to know that Duncan had helped him just yet. Though he had told Draco. He quickly changed the subject. "Are we going home to the manor for Christmas, Dad?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, we are." He did not tell them that he had sent Dobby and a few other house elves from Hogwarts there to decorate the manor for Christmas, as he and his sons would have no time to do so before the term ended. "And your Uncle Phil has something he would like to tell you about the holiday as well."

The two boys looked at the vampire, who was lounging casually in his chair, his violet eyes twinkling. "I've invited all of you to come to my cottage for part of the holiday, to meet my family. I figured it's time Julie met you and my boys have been pestering me to bring you by ever since Halloween. Does that sound good to you?"

Both Harry and Draco nodded.

"Sounds great, Uncle Phil," Draco said.

"Good, then I shall issue you an invitation to come right after Christmas, that will give Julie time to prepare a nice welcome for you." Phil said, smiling.

Then Harry remembered something else he still had to do. "Dad, can we go to Gringotts tomorrow? I need to get some money from my vault to go Christmas shopping."

"That won't be necessary, Harry. I told you before, your account and Draco's are not to be touched except in dire emergencies. Any money you need for Christmas presents I will give you."

Draco gave his brother a smug look. "Told you so." He turned to their father. "How much were you going to give us?"

"How much do you need?"

Draco thought for a moment. "Sixty Galleons."

"_Sixty Galleons?_" Harry exclaimed.

Draco scowled. "What? You want to get nice gifts, not some cheap throwaway things, right?" He pulled his brother's head down and whispered something in his ear.

"Oh. Okay. Yeah, sixty Galleons sounds about right."

Severus nodded. "Very well. I shall make the withdrawal tomorrow. Now finish your supper."

Harry and Draco thanked him, then continued eating. It was going to be a fine Christmas.

"Oh and don't forget, Dad, we need dress robes too for the ball," Draco reminded.

"Indeed. We can purchase those as well tomorrow. I'll make an appointment with Madam Malkin."

"Dress robes? Is that like a tuxedo?" Harry asked.

Severus' mouth quirked. "A little bit. You will be wearing a suit and tie underneath them. You'll see when we go there."

"Are you going to get some too?"

"No, for I already have mine," Snape answered.

"Are they black?"

"As a matter of fact, they are green." Severus replied, smirking. "Now finish your carrots."

Harry groaned but did as he was told. He just hoped shopping for dress robes wouldn't be a horror show.

* * * * * *

December 24th dawned bright and sunny, but the girls in Gryffindor Tower and elsewhere in the school were in a tizzy, trying to get ready for the ball that evening. They were airing out dresses and robes, sticking sequins and bows on shoes to make them fancy, and trying out new hairstyles and make-up.

Harry and Ron could hear the shrieks and moans right through the wall of their dorm room. "What's going on in there?"

"Don't ask, mate. You don't want to know, trust me." Ron advised, shuddering. "I can't believe my mum expects me to wear _those_ awful things. They look like my great-aunt Tilly's dress robes from a century ago! Maybe this is her way of punishing me for getting arrested." He indicated the velvet robes with the lacy sleeves and trim.

"Relax, Ron. Draco taught me a spell that will help you," Harry said. He took out his wand and pointed it at the ugly robes. Then he spoke three words and the robes' lacey trim disappeared, to be replaced by smart discreet crimson stripes and the cut altered to resemble more modern day wear, and a matching crimson bowtie appeared as well. "There. How about that?"

"Brilliant, Harry! Now Zara won't run screaming from me. You saved my life!"

"It was nothing." Harry said, embarrassed. "You really ought to thank Draco. He knows a lot of spells to adjust clothes and things."

"Yeah, he's a real toff clotheshorse." Ron tittered.

"Ron, you'd better never tell him that to his face, or else you'll end up with a fat lip," Harry warned. Then he added mischievously, "Even if it is true."

"I'll just keep it to myself," Ron muttered.

Harry's dress robes hung neatly on a hook, they were a classic black with a wide gold trim on the sleeves and down the front, they had an embroidered lion roaring on the right side, and were tailored to fit him perfectly. So was the smart suit that hung next to it. Severus had spared no expense on his sons' clothing. Harry even had new shoes for the occasion.

It hadn't been all that bad getting his dress robes, Harry simply let Severus and Draco pick out the cut and style, since he had no idea what was good or not. Then all he had to endure was the fitting and that was done by magic.

"C'mon, Ron. Let's go flying or something." Harry suggested, picking up his broom. He was eager to fly since being grounded, and he also had something else to do at the lake before dark fell.

* * * * * *

Half-an-hour before the ball was about to start, all of the couples were crowded into the Entrance Hall, talking and laughing, some were biting their lips uneasily. Hermione was next to Draco, looking fabulous in her beautiful rose pink gown, her hair was no longer frizzy, but sleek and put up on top of her head in a twist with several tendrils left free to hang alluringly down her neck. She even wore beautiful pearl and tourmaline earrings shaped like flowers, and on her feet were glittery pink pumps. A light touch of blush and eyeshadow and she glowed like a fresh spring morning.

Draco had taken one look at her and felt himself ache with desire. But he controlled himself admirably, and walked over and bowed politely, taking her hand and kissing it in the courtly fashion of purebloods. "Miss Granger, you are like a beautiful English rose come to life. Would you do me the honor of being my lady?"

Hermione's eyes glowed. "I would, my lord Malfoy," she said, then she laughed. "Draco, you look smashing."

He blushed lightly. "It's the dress robes." Like Harry, his dress robes had been tailored to fit him perfectly, emphasizing his height and trim waist and well-muscled body. He too was wearing basic black with silver and gold trim and a stylized snake upon his right breast. His tie was a simple satin green, but it offset perfectly his pearl gray shirt. His hair was brushed back in a fashionable wave and his gray eyes glowed with joy when he looked upon his Hermione, the bookworm who had suddenly become a beautiful butterfly.

He gently took her arm and led her towards the line of people. Heads turned and girls and boys gasped when they caught sight of Hermione, and Draco simply looked daggers at the few boys who dared to let their gazes linger upon her too long. "I love the dress," he whispered to her.

"Thanks. Katie and I went shopping together and she helped me with my hair."

"You look amazing," he said, and smiled at her.

Hermione felt rather dizzy and could hardly believe she was actually doing this, attending a formal ball with Draco on her arm. She felt almost like Cinderella, walking into the ball with a handsome prince. "Hi, Katie! You look incredible!" she called to her friend, who was making her way across the crowded Hall looking for Harry, who was just coming downstairs.

He stopped dead when he saw Katie. "Oh . . .Merlin! Katie you're . . .wow!"

"Hi, fly boy!" she grinned up at him. Her gown was a deep marine blue that came down almost to her feet, accented by lovely black pearls and turquoise pieces about the bodice and hem. The material the gown was formed of shimmered in the light and changed subtly from blue to a sea green and back again. Her dark hair was partially bound with two braids about her head and the rest left to drift down her back in a shining dark wave. Pearls and aquamarines were wound into her braids and she, like Hermione, wore just enough make-up to accent her brilliant eyes and high cheekbones. Her sandals were silver and deep blue and she wore aquamarine drops in her ears and a single large pearl about her neck.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked, twirling about.

"You look like a beautiful sea maiden," Harry said, finally regaining the power of speech. He held out his arm to her as he had seen Draco do. "Shall we?"

She took his arm and they walked past Draco and Hermione to the front of the line.

"Wait till you see what Mione and I did to Luna," Katie whispered, laughing softly. She gestured to the opposite staircase, where people were muttering and whispering in shock and envy at the vision in lavender silk coming down it.

Harry's eyes widened.

Luna was wearing a soft gown that flowed about her like gauzy wings, it was a beautiful lavender color that played up her blond hair and blue eyes to perfection. She also had a lovely silver scarf, since the dress was strapless, and wore silver heels to match. The front of the dress bore a silver pin with a rearing horse emblem and Luna's hair was twisted up in a tasteful knot and she wore a crown of lilacs on her head. And instead of radishes in her ears, she now wore silver horseshoes.

"I told her they were good luck," Katie whispered, smirking. "Doesn't she look brilliant?"

Harry nodded. "I almost didn't recognize her."

Ron whistled as he came up next to them. "Blimey, Harry! Did you see Luna? She looks like a totally different person. Really attractive." Then he turned to Zara and said apologetically, "Sorry, I mean she's not as attractive as you, Zara."

Zara laughed. "Don't worry, _cherie_, I am not the jealous type. Miss Lovegood is indeed _tres belle_." Zara herself was dressed in a beautiful traditional gypsy gown, with ten ruffles upon the skirt, in gold and crimson, and her blouse was low cut and an even deeper crimson. A long shawl decorated in brilliant jewel tone silks of all the colors of the rainbow hung across her shoulders and her wrists flashed with gold bracelets and silver bangles. She wore high heeled black shoes with golden lilies on the front and her hair was twined with small golden buttercups and left to swirl about her head in a magnificent swath of curls. About her neck was a crest of a leaping leopard, the symbol of her Burgundian house.

Ron kept looking at her as if he were afraid she might vanish before his eyes, and he kept smiling nervously, and tugging at his sleeves to cover his sweaty palms. He was afraid he looked rumpled in his fancy robes, but even he couldn't deny they were a damn sight better than the original ones. "You look like a million Galleons, Zara."

"Aww, you're sweet, Ron!" she beamed at him, then kissed him on the cheek.

He blushed as red as his hair, and tried to ignore the cries of "Kiss her back, Weasley, she's a babe!" and "Way to go, little brother!" from the twins.

"My brothers! They're so . . .just ignore them," he said, feeling himself blush even hotter.

"Why? Perhaps you should take zere advice, no?" she teased.

Ron gulped. "You mean . . .you want me to kiss you?"

"I would not ask you otherwise," she murmured, looking up at him from beneath her lashes.

Ron felt like he had just won the Triwizard Tournament. He put an arm about the lovely Beauxbatons witch and kissed her softly.

Fred and George cheered.

So did Draco, Hermione, Harry and Katie.

Luna skipped up to them, looking rather shy and uncertain in her new wardrobe. "Hello, Harry! You look very handsome."

"Thanks, Luna. You look really great too."

"Oh, well, Katie convinced me to come, even though I haven't got a date yet. She lent me the dress and fixed my hair, I think it looks pretty good."

"It does, and you never know just when someone unexpected will show up that needs a partner," Harry said, winking at Katie. He had told Duncan to come to the castle at seven o'clock, when all the couples would be going into the Great Hall.

"Really?" Luna looked around. "But I don't see anyone."

"Just be patient. I'm sure there's someone who'll be here," Harry reassured her. He checked his watch--6:55. "Five more minutes till the doors open."

In front of them were Fleur and Roger Davies, looking like a perfect society couple, handsome and haughty and charming. Fleur was wearing a sophisticated powder blue number that showed off her fabulous curves and long neck.

In front of her were Cho and Cedric, who also looked wonderful, Cedric in gold and black robes and Cho was wearing a Chinese silk dress with peonies and cranes upon it. She looked beautiful and serene, like a marble goddess.

First in line were Krum, who was wearing some kind of velvet red robe thickly trimmed with white mink fur, like a Russian czar and fur trimmed boots and a thick gold chain was about his neck. He had an arrogant smirk on his face and was escorting a pale and wispy girl wearing a frilly white dress that made her look like a cake topper. Katie said her name was Damascus Rosen, she was a fifth-year Ravenclaw, and very stuck-up. She was looking down her nose at Luna and then her eyes shot to Katie, who gave her a cool nod and turned away.

"Upstart mariner's daughter," Damascus sniffed.

Harry stiffened and would have replied to the sneering girl, but Katie shook her head.

"Keep it cool, Snape. She's been calling me that since we were both in short skirts. I take it as a compliment. Her father couldn't pass the test for a Sea Wizard and so he became a merchant. She's just jealous because my da's stronger magically than hers. And we won the last sailing competition at Devon too."

"I still don't like what she said," Harry said angrily. "Who does she think she is?"

"The belle of the ball."

"Humph! There's only one belle and I've got her right here," Harry declared, and hugged her close.

Katie grinned and kissed him, her cerulean eyes dancing. "Where's Duncan?"

Harry glanced upwards just as the clock struck seven and the double doors to the hall swung open. "I don't know. He said he would be here."

"Harry, what did you tell him?" Katie asked, frowning.

"Uh . . .that there was a big party going on and one of my friends needed an escort. Why?"

"Oh. I was afraid you said something else, like you just wanted to talk to him or something." She faced forward as the line began to move inside the hall.

Harry continued to look around for the kelpie until Katie tugged him into the hall, and they processed up the strip of red carpet to the dais where the teachers sat, along with Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, and Bagman. Harry stared in alarm as he didn't see Crouch there, only a smug Percy in his spot. Percy gave him a supercilious look and pointed them to a seat next to his own.

Harry reluctantly slid into it, he had managed to avoid the arrogant third eldest Weasley since that day on the stairs, when Percy had declared he wasn't fit company for his brother. "What are you doing here?" he snapped, not caring if he sounded rude. "Where's Mr. Crouch?"

"Mr. Crouch is . . .indisposed," Percy replied smoothly. "Had a nervous attack. Under a lot of pressure you know. I'm his assistant, you know, and he told me to take his place. He trusts me implicitly." The older wizard stated, as if he had just been named king of the British Isles.

"I'll bet." Harry said shortly. He looked down the table at his father, who was dressed impeccably in his forest green dress robes, his hair bound back by a satin ribbon, and gave Severus a smile.

Dark eyes met green and Severus gave him an approving nod and a smile in return. He was seated next to Dumbledore, at his right hand, and McGonagall was opposite him on the Headmaster's left. Dumbledore was at the head of the long table, beaming genially at everyone, dressed in sumptuous purple velvet trimmed with ermine and sparkles, and the beret he wore upon his white locks sported a single red phoenix feather.

Harry looked around, the hall was glittering with candles floating in the air, and festooned with pine boughs and holly and huge red velvet bows. The usual long tables had been done away with in favor of smaller round ones that sat four people and were draped with red tablecloths. There was a large space in the middle of the hall where the dancing was to be, and off to the right was a podium where the Weird Sisters were supposed to be playing. It was currently empty.

Harry frowned, for the students were being seated and still there was no sign of Duncan. He could not believe the kelpie was late. Poor Luna would have no one to escort her inside and would end up having to come in alone.

Just then there was a stirring at the opposite end of the hall, and all heads turned to see Luna standing at the entrance of the hall, her hand upon a devastatingly handsome young man. She was looking up at him and smiling, a heartbreaking sweet smile.

Duncan was looking down on her and saying something that made her laugh, then he gestured and they began to walk down the aisle. The kelpie had managed to make himself look around seventeen, but there was an ageless quality in his face and the way he held himself. His hair had been left long, it shone black as night and he was wearing a tunic and cloak of a shimmering white and deep blue that complimented Luna's gown perfectly. His breeches were skin-tight blue leather and looked as if they had scales sewn on to them. On anyone else, that sort of costume might have looked ridiculous, but not on the kelpie. On Duncan it was dazzling.

Every girl's eye in the room was drawn to the handsome stranger, and Duncan flashed one of his dazzling smiles before leading Luna to an empty table and holding out a chair for her.

Whispers and rumors exploded around them, but the two serenely ignored them, intent only upon each other.

"I say, who is that fellow?" Bagman asked, for fae Glamour affected even men. "He's criminally handsome."

"He is that, all right," murmured Professor Sinistra dreamily. "Who is he?"

They all looked at Dumbledore, who Harry had told of his little scheme. The old wizard smiled and said, "He's a distant cousin of one of the students, recently arrived from the Caribbean, I believe."

Everyone murmured astonishment at the unexpected guest save for one person.

Severus turned and shot Harry a sharp glance and his son knew that he was not fooled for a minute. He knew quite well who the visitor was, he knew Glamour when he saw it.

An instant later, Harry felt Smidgen settle upon his shoulder. _:Master Harry, your father wishes to know how a kelpie came to be invited to the Yule Ball.:_

_Tell him I invited him to be Luna's escort. Actually, it was Katie's idea, we both thought it wasn't fair for him to be alone on Christmas, and we figured Luna would be a good partner for him. So we asked him, he agreed, and here he is._

_:I see! Playing matchmaker, are you?:_ Smidgen seemed vastly amused and purred her approval into his head before blinking over to Snape and relating Harry's words to him.

Severus rolled his eyes heavenward at the shimmerling's message and thought, _I should have known. Merlin save me from matchmaking teenagers. I shall have to find a moment later to speak to him, make sure he understands that Lovegood is not to be snatched away after the ball is over._

Harry relaxed when he saw that his father did not appear angry over his little scheme, and then stared down at his golden plate. Where was the food?

He got his answer a moment later when Dumbledore spoke his order into the air. "Pork chops and potatoes."

There was a flash and then perfectly done pork chops swimming in gravy and potatoes appeared on his plate, along with asparagus and a small buttered roll.

"Guess we get to choose the menu tonight," Katie said excitedly, then she asked for crab cakes in sweet red pepper sauce and rice pilaf.

Harry thought for a moment, then remembered he had always wanted to try broiled lobster tails and steak with a baked potato.

His dinner appeared upon his plate a few seconds later, and it smelled absolutely divine. He looked over to see what his father had ordered.

Severus was eating mushrooms stuffed with crabmeat, huge ones, with a side of risotto Milanese and green beans.

Harry hid a smile. _I should have known. He made that once for dinner at the manor and said it was one of his favorites. I'll have to remember that for his birthday. _He began eating his lobster, dipping the tender meat into the melted butter beside his plate. It was heavenly.

_No wonder Dudley always ordered that when we went out to a restaurant. Mmm, it's so good!_ He ate another piece, savoring the rich taste.

On the floor, at their table, Draco and Hermione were sharing a plate of tender veal cutlets in a brown sauce with mashed potatoes and honey-glazed carrots. They fed each other bites and laughed when some sauce dripped on Draco's shirt. He promptly cleaned it off with a flick of his wand and resumed eating. Ron and Zara shared their table, though Ron was not bold enough to ask Zara to share a dinner with him. He contended himself with a tender Swiss steak and a baked potato loaded with cheese and bacon and Zara had chicken cordon bleu and peas with mushrooms and pasta with butter and garlic. For drinks there were fizzy apple cider and grape juice and the adults had some kind of rum punch.

At least some of the adults did. Severus did not touch the punch, instead sipping a lemon water.

Karkaroff looked at the other wizard and asked maliciously, "What's this, Snape? Not man enough to hold your liquor? Where I come from, this is mild as milk."

Severus gave Karkaroff a glance that should have killed him where he sat. "I prefer to not make a drunken ass out of myself, Igor, unlike some people I could name."

"Are you calling me a drunk, Snape?"

Severus sneered and turned back to his dinner.

Karkaroff muttered and glared, but no one else said anything and McGonagall shot him a look that should have roasted him.

At last the dinner was ended and the Weird Sisters appeared, ready to begin the opening number that all the champions would dance to. Harry glanced nervously at Katie, who patted his hand.

"Don't worry, Harry. You'll do fine. You didn't step on my feet once when we practiced with Draco and Hermione."

Harry swallowed, wishing this were over. He looked over at the Weird Sisters, who reminded him of specters from a newly dug grave with their torn robes and dyed hair that hung over their eyes. As he watched, he saw out of the corner of his eye, Duncan push back his chair and approach the platform where they were standing.

He spent a total of three minutes in conversation, and then the lead singer of the wizard band bowed and gestured for him to come up on the stage.

The kelpie bounded up easily, smiling.

"Oh Merlin, he's going to sing for us!" Katie said, and sighed in rapture. Duncan's voice sometimes still haunted her dreams, it was that spellbinding.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have here a guest singer tonight, who wishes to open for us," announced the lead of the Weird Sisters. "Please welcome Duncan Wavestrider."

Duncan bowed and such was the charm he exuded that everyone in the room cheered and clapped like crazy, even though they had never heard him sing a note.

Over the tumult, Karkaroff leaned in and taunted Severus yet again. "Such a shame that you have no lady willing to stand up with you, Snape. Or do you not dance as well as drink, you backward stiff?"

Severus flushed, ready to take the arrogant Headmaster of Durmstrang apart with his razor tongue.

But before he could get a word out, another replied to Igor's comment. "You're pretty bold, wizard, to say such things about a combat master. I don't see a woman next to you, Lord Lackwit."

Karkaroff nearly fell over backwards as a lady in a gorgeous royal purple gown appeared beside Severus.

Severus spun around, rising to his feet so quickly he nearly knocked over his chair. "_Sarai!_ What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

"Asking you to dance, Sev, among other things," she replied, gazing up at him lovingly. "I'd offer to teach that buffoon over there some manners too, but I know you could do that yourself. Surprised?"

"I . . .but what about your oath to Titania?"

"My gracious queen allowed me to take a small vacation, and so I'm here until the end of Twelfth Night." Sarai told him, her evergreen eyes shining. "I wanted to surprise you for Christmas, so I didn't send a messenger."

His hands closed over her shoulders, and he said tenderly, "You are the very best surprise I could have, Sarai _a'mara_." His eyes burned with a fierce wild passion and a tenderness few in this world had ever seen.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Ah, Severus, would you please introduce your lady to us?"

The Potions Master blinked, then reluctantly turned away from his half-fae beloved. "Forgive me, Albus. Allow me to introduce my betrothed, Lady Sarai Kinsalari Valinek, cousin to Queen Titania of the Seelie Court, and Captain of her personal guard."

"Charmed, my dear. You are the first representative of fae royalty we have had at the school since it was founded, I believe," Dumbledore said, standing and taking Sarai's hand and bowing over it. "Welcome, my lady, to Hogwarts. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster."

Sarai gave him a pleasant smile. "Thank you, sir. The pleasure is mine. And I am hardly royalty, I am but a distant relation to Titania."

"Nevertheless, you _are_ a relation," Dumbledore insisted. He eyed Severus shrewdly. "Where have you been keeping her, Severus?"

"Ask rather where her duty has been keeping her," Severus said, looking a bit embarrassed. "She serves Titania as her personal bodyguard and is often away in the Realm of Faerie, protecting her sovereign."

"This enchanting little lady is a warrior?" Flitwick remarked, looking at Sarai in astonishment.

Sarai chuckled. "Don't be fooled by my appearance, this dress is court apparel and were you to see me in my armor and uniform, you wouldn't think me a soft court flower."

She gestured at her dress, which was a lovely royal purple that fell almost to her feet, elegant and tasteful, with a close fitting bodice with a neckline of moonstones and amethysts, tapering down to a flowing skirt inset with silk and chiffon. On her feet were dainty heels that gave her an extra two inches of height, so she came up to Severus's chin. Entwined in her hair, which had been tamed somewhat with several potions, were several glowing purple stones. "Titania's wardrobe mistress called this color and style Purple Passionflower or some such nonsense," she told Severus with a wry grin. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," he said, drawing her close. "You outshine the stars, beloved."

"Oh, please. Compared to my cousins I am but a candle flame."

"But your cousins are not here, are they? You are, and you are the most beautiful woman here tonight. Trust me on that." Severus said, lifting her hand and kissing it tenderly.

Katie nudged Harry. "Is that the professor's girlfriend?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, that's Sarai. She's something, isn't she?"

Katie nodded. "Yeah. I look like a house elf next to her."

"You do not," Harry argued. "She's half-fae, that's why she's so stunning. But I love you just the way you are, Lady Katherine."

"Really?"

"Really. In fact, this is the first time I've ever seen Sarai in a dress. Normally she wears a tunic and breeches and carries a sword." He had been speaking quietly, but he had forgotten how sharp a half-fae's hearing was.

"Too true, Harry, but I could hardly show up to a ball in my uniform, now could I?" Sarai asked, smiling down at him.

"Uh . . .no." Harry said, blushing. "Hi, Sarai. That's a . . .nice dress."

"Thank you, Harry. Well met, Heir Apparent," laughed the guard captain, giving him a short curtsey. "Where is your brother?"

"He's over there, with Hermione." Harry gestured to where Draco was sitting. "Sarai, meet Katie Bell, my girlfriend."

Sarai stepped away from Severus's embrace to shake Katie's hand. "Well met and a joyous Yuletide to you, Katie."

Katie blushed and managed a soft, "And you as well, lady."

Sarai gave her a smile, then greeted the others at the table before stepping back to Severus and taking his arm. "And now, I believe you were going to have a dance, were you not?" She looked up at the platform. "Cernunnos! How ever did you persuade one of my folk to sing for you?"

"Ask Harry," Severus told her, smiling. "He arranged it."

Before anyone could remark upon that, Duncan gave a nod to one of the Weird Sisters, who began to strum an invisible guitar, and as the first notes of the old ballad drifted across the hall, Duncan spoke.

"This first number is for the four champions and their partners, will they please come down on the floor to lead the first dance?"

The kelpie's voice was as rich and compelling as ever, and Harry found himself moving down the dais and onto the dance floor with Katie before he knew what he was about. He had no chance to feel awkward, however, because Duncan began to sing, an old love song of the Seelie Court, called "My Beloved's Eyes".

The tune was an easy one to dance to, and Harry found his feet moving without conscious effort, stepping and turning in a soft gliding motion. He held Katie close and gazed into her eyes, enraptured by her nearness and her eyes and the music that flowed from the kelpie's throat. For a single moment, nothing else existed except the two of them.

Duncan made a beckoning motion, and other couples stood and joined the four champions.

Draco twirled elegantly with Hermione, smiling down at her with such passion that it brought tears to her eyes.

Ginny danced and laughed with Neville, who managed to not step on her feet at all this time.

Dumbledore offered a hand to McGonagall, who took it, and the two stepped out to a graceful pavine.

Sarai turned to her betrothed. "Shall we dance, my Lord Severus?"

He took her arm and smiled challengingly. "Let us see if I can't make you dance your slippers through tonight, Lady Sarai."

Then he led her out on the floor, in a stately waltz that left others gaping.

Despite the difference in their height, the wizard and the half-fae warrior were perfectly matched. Sarai was grace incarnate, her feet hardly seemed to touch the floor. Severus led confidently, his innate grace and agility lending itself to the steps of the dance without much effort on his part. Though it had been over a year since he had danced this way with his lady, much less with an entire audience looking on, he found that he was not awkward in the least. He simply kept his eyes fixed upon his beloved and let the love he felt for her express itself in the music and the twirling motions of the waltz.

The students backed away, mouths agape, watching in awe as their professor and the strange yet beautiful woman he was partnering danced across the floor and back in perfect harmony. Draco and Hermione halted their own dance to watch and so did everyone else save Dumbledore and Madame Maxime.

Harry was grinning and holding Katie, swaying in time to the music, and he noted with some satisfaction that Krum was looking at Sarai and Severus with a sour expression upon his face and it was equally matched by Karkaroff, whose ill-considered comments now made him appear stupider than ever.

Duncan, recognizing two kindred spirits, continued to sing, finishing his first song and launching into another, this one a slightly faster reel.

Sarai and Severus moved over to where Harry, Draco, Hermione, and Katie were and Sarai held out her hand to Draco. "Come, little Dragon, dance with us. This one is meant to be danced in a circle, a roundel. Like this," she demonstrated, her feet flashing in and out.

"Sarai, you're in a _dress_!" Draco blurted, too shocked to say anything else.

The warrior laughed. "Indeed, and have a long look, child, for this may be the last time you see me in such garb for months. Now, will you dance, young one? "Tis remarkably like _kin-sa-dor_, this step."

Draco stared into her twinkling emerald eyes and laughed too. Then he took her hand and grabbed Hermione by the other, and she in turn grabbed Harry, who grabbed Katie, who reached out and snatched Ron's hand, and then Zara followed, clasping Luna's hand. Duncan came down from the musician's platform and took Luna's other hand, still singing lustily, and one by one the other students joined in until there was a huge spiral whirling and twirling all across the hall, bound together by a kelpie's song and the unity and fellowship of the season.

Eventually the great spiral dance broke up into smaller circles and one by one, partners took their turns in the center of each, dancing as they chose for a brief few minutes before backing out and giving the stage to another pair.

Duncan twirled a breathless Luna about, never missing a note, his dark cerulean eyes filled with laughter, his feet weaving a deft pattern. "What a revel, my lady! 'Tis most glorious, yes?" he sang.

"Oh, yes, but please slow down, I can't keep up," Luna panted, but she was grinning.

Obligingly, Duncan slowed his steps till she matched him, and thought how wonderful it was to dance and sing again, and how good it felt to see the light in the girl's eyes, as she smiled up at him, her eyes dreamy and filled with affection. _Just so did I dance with my Albia, across the sand, to the invisible lyre and pipes I conjured with magic. Little Luna, yours is a wise soul, you see things beyond your ken, and yet you still have a refreshing innocence about you. May you keep that forever. _

But at last his song came to an end, and everyone halted, panting and breathless, drunk on the sensations the kelpie had conjured with his splendid talent. Duncan bowed to the Weird Sisters, who were reluctant to try and follow such musical brilliance, and then he asked Luna if she was thirsty.

"Yes, I am. Dancing is fun, but it's also thirsty work," she admitted.

"Aye, little moon, it is." Duncan smirked, and led her over to the refreshment table, where bowls of non-alcoholic fruit punch sat chilling. He poured two glasses, handed one to the starry-eyed girl, and they toasted each other. "Here's to a Happy Yuletide, my lady, and may you have many more."

"You too, Duncan," she laughed and drank. She was dizzy, drunk upon joy such as she had never known, enchanted by the handsome young man who had appeared out of thin air to escort her to the ball. She knew almost next to nothing about him, but somehow that did not matter right then. There was something indefinable that drew her to him, and she could tell right away that whoever he was, he was not—at least completely—human. _A fae lord, most likely, I think. Like all those stories Papa used to read to me. I could lose myself in his eyes forever,_ she thought and then proceeded to do so.

Harry and Katie were heading back to their seats to rest for a bit when they caught sight of the kelpie and Luna gazing at each other dreamily.

"Look, Harry! It worked! I think he likes her," Katie said.

Harry eyed the kelpie, noting that he was giving Luna a sweet smile, and nodded. "Sure does." He slapped his palm down on Katie's and laughed. "This was some Yule Ball, huh?"

"Yes. I'm having such a good time," she said, levitating two cups of punch over to them. She took one and Harry the other, and they sipped contentedly while watching the others on the floor.

Zara had traded partners and now she danced with Draco and Ron with Hermione, and the half-Gypsy proved she had inherited her ancestors' love of music and grace as she and the Slytherin danced a wild flamenco to the Weird Sisters' rock number.

Some of the Slytherins cheered and Blaise Zabini yelled, "Go it, Malfoy! Nobody dances like a Slytherin!"

There was an overwhelming yell from all the Slytherins present, as they saluted their Head of House, who was standing quietly with his arm about Sarai, and his foster son.

Laughing, Draco spun Zara around, then bowed and handed her off to Ron and claimed Hermione once more as the band shifted into a slow dance tune.

Harry would have asked Katie to dance again, but he felt a sudden urge to use the bathroom and regretfully hurried from the hall.

Upon returning, he caught sight of Moody and Karkaroff in a corner, and he slowed, wondering what those two were doing together, for normally Karkaroff avoided the former Auror. Harry crept forward on cat's feet, slipping behind one of the pillars. The music was soft enough for him to make out what the two were whispering.

"Look at this! It's returning!" Karkaroff sounded panicked, he had his sleeve rolled up and was pointing at something on his arm.

Harry couldn't make out what it was and thought maybe it was a mole or a tattoo.

"So? What do you expect me to do about it?"

"You can't ignore it! It means but one thing . . ."

"And if it does?" hissed Moody, his eye hard. "What do you plan to do, Igor? Stay and see it through, or run away and hide like the chicken-livered coward you are?"

Karkaroff was visibly distressed, his hands shaking as if with a palsy. "I don't know! I don't know!"

"Pull yourself together, you whining milksop!" snapped Moody, reaching out and shaking the other wizard. "People are starting to stare. Make up your mind, Igor. Quickly! Before it's too late and you end up like Rookwood and the others. Wouldn't want that, would you?"

Karkaroff shook his head. "No . . .but it is so difficult . . .will I be allowed back?"

"If you're loyal, then yes. Decide, damn you! Before he does it for you." With that, Moody turned and stomped away, leaving Karkaroff standing alone, wringing his hands.

Harry drew away and pretended to have just strolled through the doors and made his way back towards the high table where Katie sat. He didn't know what had just went on between the two elder wizards, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

_I wish Uncle Phil were here, he could read their minds and tell what they're up to in a second, but he's at his home with his family tonight, getting prepared for the Christmas dinner and all for tomorrow. I wonder, do vampires bake gingerbread?_

With that rather whimsical thought, he rejoined Katie and they returned to the dance floor for one last dance.

As he held her close, Harry recalled how nervous he had been just before the ball, and now he laughed inwardly and wondered why he had ever been afraid in the first place. There was magic in this night, in this ball, and he, Harry Albus Snape, was having the time of his life.

"I love you, Katie," he whispered.

"I love you too," she replied, her lips inches from his.

He dipped his head, unable to resist, and their mouths met in a searing kiss that sent lightning through them in bursts.

When they at last drew apart, they saw Severus and Sarai also indulging themselves, and Harry blushed and looked away. _Sorry, Dad._

He turned around, and nearly bumped into Ron, who was carrying a plate of sweets back to Zara and Hermione. "Hey, Ron. What do you think so far?"

"I think this is the best party this school has ever seen. Whoever invited that kid to sing really found a gem. Merlin, but he ought to be on the WWN, he's incredible. When he sings, I feel like I could dance myself into the air, and I've got two left feet."

"I know. Duncan's got some voice." Harry said, sharing a secret smile with Katie. "He's one of a kind."

"And who's the babe your dad was dancing with?" Ron asked, giggling. "Merlin, but she's like on fire! I couldn't believe it when I saw the two of them together, I nearly tripped and fell on my bum. I never knew your dad could dance."

"Neither did I."Harry admitted. "But I should have, since he's known Sarai for so long and she seems to like to."

"Sarai? You mean the half-fae warrior that your dad's dating?" Ron coughed. "_That_ Sarai?"

"Yeah, she's the one."

"What's she doing here?"

"She came to surprise Dad and to stay for the holiday with us."

Ron whistled. "Pretty neat, mate. Your dad sure looks happy."

"He is. He misses her a lot, and they hardly ever have time together unless it's the summer, so this is like the best present ever for him."

"When's the wedding then?"

"I don't know. She still has a contract with the Queen and until she's free she can't marry. But someday they'll tie the knot."

"You'll be lucky with her as a stepmother," Ron said dreamily. "Really lucky."

Harry socked him in the arm. "Ron! Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Why? I like it there."

"You're hopeless, you know that?" Harry shook his head. "Even if I liked Sarai that way . . .she'd never break her vows to Dad. They belong together. Two halves of the same whole. Like Katie and me."

Ron stared at him. "You're _that_ serious?"

"Yeah . . .pretty much," his friend replied slowly.

Ron drew in a deep breath. "O-okay . . .so when's the wedding?"

Katie answered. "Soon as we finish school. My parents would never permit us to get married any sooner and neither would Professor Snape."

"Good. Then I've got time to save up for a new set of dress robes," Ron said drolly and they all burst out laughing.

**A/N: In the original GOF the ball was held after Christmas, but I tweaked the timeline a bit and held the ball on Christmas Eve to give Sarai time to spend Christmas with the Snapes. **

**If anyone would like to take a shot at solving the riddle, please do so, only don't put it in a review because others might be trying to solve it too. You can PM and I'll let you know if it's correct. :)**

**How did you all like the ball and who got paired with whom? Were you surprised by the guests? And with Sirius and Dudley's letters?**

**Wizard crackers and gingerbread to any who review this!!**


	22. Silver Bells At Prince Manor

**Silver Bells At Prince Manor**

_Misty Moor, Yorkshire:_

Draco and Sarai stood behind Severus and Harry as they waited for Severus to dismiss the Endless Mist so they could return to Prince Manor for the holiday break. This would be the first time in years that Severus had spent the holiday at his home rather than at the school, doing clandestine spying activities for the Order. He was happy to be spending the holiday this year with his sons and his beloved, the way most normal people, wizards or Muggles, did. He brought his arms up, holding them out shoulder width apart and over his head.

The mist curled about his feet like a puppy, and Severus brought his arms down and chanted in Latin, "Part for me."

The mist obeyed, flowing back in silvery ribbons and curling up to either side of the scrolled wrought iron gates. In the center of the gates was a round circular depression. Severus turned to Harry, the Heir Apparent, and said, "Someday I shall teach you how to part the Endless Mist, but now is not the time to practice. The winter favors the Unseelie Court and they are often abroad, searching for ways to enter our world through the mishaps of a neophyte gate caller. So, we'll wait till summer, when the Seelie are in ascendance. However, you can do the honors and open the gate." Severus gestured gracefully at the gates.

"Sure, but what do I have to do?" Harry asked.

"Use your medallion and fit it into the hole there. The gates will open for you."

Harry walked up and removed his medallion from under his shirt. He carefully pressed the silver amulet into the depression and the amulet glowed and the glow spread out all across the gates and then they swung open, welcoming the Heir Apparent and his family back home.

He felt a sharp quiver go through him as he took his first step upon the grounds. As soon as his foot touched the earth he felt a warmth flow into him—warmth and a feeling of utter peace, contentment, and welcome. The cozy feeling wrapped about him like a fleece blanket and he felt tears prickle his eyes. _Home. I am home._

All throughout his days at school, there had been an undefinable longing within in him that had never quite gone away. Always in the back of his mind there was a feeling of loss, of wishing for that secret special place where he belonged, where the very land knew his footsteps and the wind called his name.

Now he was back—back at Prince Manor, and the magic of the land welcomed him home.

He shut his eyes and breathed in the cool crisp air, laden with the aroma of just-ripening merlinnas mingling with roses, a fragrance that was uniquely the manor's own. The wind teased and curled about him, tickling his ears and playfully tugging his hair. _Welcome back, Heir Apparent. Welcome home._

"Harry, are you just going to stand there all day, or are you going to move so the rest of us can come in?" demanded Draco irritably.

Harry's eyes snapped open. "Huh?" Only then did he realize he was standing in the way and he walked forward, feeling the pulse of the land beneath his feet with every step he took. Dazzled by the potent aura of recognition, he paused halfway to the house.

Severus placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. "It takes us all this way when we first return after going away," he said knowingly. "The land is tied to you by blood and magic, Harry, and it misses you when you are absent."

Harry looked up at him, his emerald eyes glowing in rapture. "Dad, does . . .does the wind talk to you?"

Severus nodded. "It welcomes me home and asks me to stay. Has it spoke to you?"

"Yeah. And the land, when I walked onto the lawn it . . .hugged me . . .sort of."

"An apt way to describe it, son," Severus smiled. "That is how it should be, for a chosen Heir Apparent. And it will always be that way. Here you are safe, no harm shall ever come to you, and you will always belong. You and the land are one."

"I can smell the merlinnas, Dad." Harry said, elated.

"Yes, they are blooming again, despite the weather beyond the manor. You coming here has awakened them," Severus explained, walking towards the house with one arm about his son.

"Are you happy to be home again, Draco?" asked Sarai, not wanting the other boy to feel left out. As a half-fae, she too could feel the land's welcome of its Chosen Heirs, but she was unsure if Draco could, his fae blood being diluted by his mortal heritage of several centuries.

"Yeah, I am, Sarai." Draco said, looking over at the manor house. "I've missed this place. More than I ever did Malfoy Manor." As they drew closer, Draco noted there were wreaths of evergreen and holly upon the windows and two large ones on each door of the entrance. "Hey, someone decorated here while we were gone!" he exclaimed.

Sarai chuckled. "Yes, and I suspect that was your father's doing."

"You mean, he did this?" Astonishment colored the young Slytherin's tone.

"If not him, than he hired it done," said the warrior.

Draco cocked his head. "Hired . . ." then it dawned on him. "Merlin, but he _paid_ house elves to do this!"

"Most likely. Why so surprised, little serpent?"

"B-because they're house elves and normally house elves don't . . .er . . .get paid for stuff like that," he stammered.

"Bound ones do not," Sarai reminded, her voice tinged with disapproval. "But no Prince will ever bind a house elf to do his bidding. They are Low Court Seelie and to bind one will break the Accords. Besides, they will work for the Heir willingly, as they would for any High Court fae who asks."

Draco flushed. "Sorry. I forgot. My family . . .the Malfoys, I mean, we had house elves . . .Lucius bound them or they were bound, I can never remember which."

"You are not responsible for the errors of your elders, Draco," Sarai said in a more kindly tone. "Learn from their mistakes, however, and do not repeat them."

"I will," he said, and flashed her a heartwarming smile.

She laughed and ruffled his hair. "Come, Dragon, let's race. Last one to the door has to make the other hot cocoa."

"You're on!" Draco cried, then he took off, running as quickly as he could.

Sarai allowed him a ten stride head start before she raced after him.

The two blew by Severus and Harry, who stared at them and continued walking leisurely up the path.

Draco ran as hard as he dared, but even at his fastest, despite his longer legs, Sarai caught him, and her hand slapped the green painted door first. "Good try, Dragon!" she praised, breathing a little bit harshly.

Draco gasped and then said, "Damn, but you're fast, Sarai."

"That comes from being a guard and from my fae heritage," Sarai explained, brushing her hair back from her head. "But you gave a good showing, young one."

They waited for Severus and Harry to catch up before going inside the manor.

No sooner had they all entered then three house elves appeared before them with sharp crackling pops and bowed low. "Welcome back, Master Severus, Master Harry, Master Draco, and Lady Sarai. How was your trip? What may we do for you?"

Harry looked at the three elves curiously. All had clothes, well made garments, soft tunics and trousers and boots in green and silver colors and green caps. There was one male and two females. To his shock, he recognized Dobby. "Dobby? Is that you?"

"It is, Master Harry," the elf said, grinning happily. "Dobby has volunteered to come and decorate Prince Manor for your family. These are my siblings, Danae and Damson, they are twins," he indicated the two female elves, who had long curling blond hair and bright blue eyes.

"'Tis an honor for us to serve the great Harry Snape and his family," said Danae, bowing again.

"Do you have any trunks you need unpacked? Or would you like some refreshments?" asked Damson. "There is a fire burning in the den and we have hot cocoa and cakes upon a tray."

"We're starving," Draco spoke up. "Uh . . .thanks," he said awkwardly, for this was the first time he had ever thanked any elf before.

"You are most welcome, Master Draco," Dobby said, and there was no anger or resentment in his voice.

Draco was surprised, for he hadn't treated Dobby very nicely as a child. He had ordered the elf about constantly and when he was in a mood he insulted him ferociously and sometimes lied to Lucius if he had misbehaved, allowing Dobby to be punished instead of him. He had endured many a scolding from Severus for treating the house elf unfairly, he recalled, ashamed. Now, however, he regretted being such a brat, and hoped Dobby could forgive him.

"Our trunks are in our rooms, I think," Severus said, having Flooed them through before they had left Hogwarts. "You may unpack them, if you like."

"It shall be done immediately, sir," said Damson, and she popped away.

"Dobby, when did you get your . . .er . . .clothes?" Harry asked.

"Your father was giving me them, Master Harry." Dobby said.

"I refuse to have anyone in this house dressed like a ragamuffin, so I gave them all uniforms as part of their wages," Severus interjected.

"Master Severus is most generous," Danae bowed to him again. She gazed at him in hero worship.

Severus looked uncomfortable at such obvious adulation, and said gruffly, "It was only a simple uniform. We will be down in the den shortly, right now I think it's best if we go and get changed out of our school clothes."

"Of course, sir," Dobby said respectfully.

"Dad, are we still sharing a room?" asked Draco, only then recalling that before they had left for school, Harry was still rooming with him.

Severus considered. "Given your new maturity level, I suppose I can trust you two to behave yourselves. That being so, you may go back to having your own rooms. But—"here he leveled a stern finger at them. "—misbehave and you'll find yourselves sharing again."

"Understood, sir," Harry replied, then he headed down the hall to his room, the first room he had picked out upon coming to the manor last summer. As he walked down the hall, he could hear the sound of bells chiming and he looked about. "Where are those bells coming from?" he asked his brother.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. Let's ask Dobby."

Dobby appeared beside him. "You has a question, sir?"

"Yes. How come we can hear bells ringing?"

"Oh, that's because my sisters and I have hung silver bells from all the trees in the orchard and the roof of the house. They make pretty music when the wind blows."

It was true. The silver bells did make a joyous sound in the air, and both boys smiled and continued on into their rooms. Silver bells at Prince Manor, it was a wonderful surprise.

"That's really neat, Dobby," Harry said, feeling more and more the joys of the season, which he had never really known with a family until this moment.

He entered his room, and found all of his things put away, except for the Christmas presents he had bought for Draco and Phil and his father. Hermione and Ron and Katie's he had already sent off before he left. Hedwig's perch was right near the partially open window, next to Frost's. Both owls were out flying, delivering his packages.

He began to pull off his school robes and dress in more comfortable clothing.

* * * * * *

Draco pulled open his armoire, looking through his clothes for his favorite jumper and trousers. The jumper was an emerald green and the trousers were black. "Now, where are they?" he muttered, frowning.

"Does Master Draco need help?" asked Dobby.

Draco spun about. "Dobby! Merlin, but you startled me."

"Dobby is sorry," the elf apologized. "What can Dobby do for you, sir?"

"I'm looking for my favorite green jumper and black trousers," Draco said.

"Ah. Here they are," Dobby snapped his fingers and the clothing appeared in Draco's arms.

Draco turned away to put on the clothes, then he halted and said, "Thank you, Dobby. And . . .I'm sorry for treating you badly when I was at Malfoy Manor."

"You are most welcome, sir. And Dobby does not judge wizards. You followed as you had been taught."

"It was still wrong," Draco insisted. "I was a spoiled brat and I made your life hell. But now you're free and you can tell me to shove it if I start acting like a brat again."

"Dobby would never speak so to a wizard," the elf said.

"Why not? You can, you're not bound to hurt yourself any longer if you speak ill of me."

"Yes, but . . .your father has said Dobby can disobey if Dobby wishes, and if you or Master Harry gets . . .insolent Dobby may leave or report you to him. But of course, Dobby would never need to do so, right, Master Draco?"

Draco burst out laughing. "Dobby, you're a cunning little thing! That's one threat I'll remember. Because I don't want to be grounded over the holiday."

"No, indeed." Dobby said. "Master Draco should not feel bad for what is past."

"I was horrible to you."

"Master Lucius was worse," the elf said feelingly.

Draco winced. "I know. I apologize for him too. He got what he deserved and is where he belongs. Do you . . .forgive me then?"

Dobby looked puzzled. "Forgive? There is nothing to forgive, sir. You was a child, you behaved as your father taught you. Now things are different, and you are a Snape, not a Malfoy."

"Yeah, they are." Draco gave the elf a smile. "I know better now."

"You do," agreed Dobby. "And Dobby knows he has nothing more to fear."

And with that, the elf popped away, leaving Draco alone.

* * * * * *

After feasting on hot cocoa and cakes, and admiring the huge tree, decorated with dozens of fairy lights and Prince heirloom ornaments, as well as the swags of greenery and cinnamon sticks hanging all over the doorways, and teasing each other about what they hoped to receive for Christmas, Severus suggested the boys go to bed.

The boys did not protest the order, for they were tired from all the excitement of the Yule Ball and wanted to be able to get up early to put their presents under the tree. Time ran slightly differently at the manor, and it was a few hours shy of midnight there, allowing Harry and Draco to get a decent night's sleep.

Once the boys were in bed, Sarai and Severus felt like indulging in a little Yule magic of their own. They walked out into the orchard and listened to the music of the silver bells while walking over to a large two-seater swing hanging in a venerable old oak at the very end of the orchard. The swing was not often used, except when Sarai came and visited her lover, but now the two wished to cuddle up on it and that was exactly what they did.

The warrior put her head on Severus's muscular shoulder, rare though it was for the feisty independent woman to lean on anyone. For Severus she made an exception, because she knew he would never take it as a sign of weakness. For him she could just be Sarai the woman, and not have to worry about keeping up her warrior image. For she knew he loved her—all of her—warrior, mage, and woman, without reservation.

"I missed you, Sev."

He shifted slightly, so she was resting more comfortably in his embrace, and smiled down at her. "I know. I missed you too. Especially at night."

"Oh?" she arched an eyebrow and grinned teasingly. "_Only_ at night, my sorcerer?"

"And during the tournament, when that bloody fool Bagman released that lamia." Severus admitted.

"A lamia? But how did such a one cross the boundary?"

"I'm not altogether sure, but I think Bagman made a deal with an Unseelie mage, who summoned the lamia for him and then he permitted it to cross the boundary between the worlds, thinking he could control the she-beast." He explained what had gone on.

Sarai's face darkened wrathfully. "Again your Headmaster puts his students in danger. He and I shall have words over this, Severus."

"I have already spoken to him."

"That's all well and good, but _I_ wish to talk with him as well."

"Fine, so long as you agree not to kill him."

"I would never slay an unarmed elderly man," Sarai protested. "You know that, Severus Snape!"

"Not even if you were furious because of what he had done to a family member?"

"Not even then. My sword only spills the blood of the evil-doer and the monster." Sarai said firmly. Then she snuggled closer to him. "Let us not speak of this tonight. 'Tis ruining the peace and quiet. Tonight, love, I wish to enjoy being with you, and celebrating the holiday in the old way."

"And what way is that, Sarai Kinsalari?"

"By holding each other, singing, and lastly making love to you."

"Here?"

"Wherever you wish. Your bed is big enough for several of us, but the grass is comfortable too," she laughed.

"For you, maybe." He groused. "Last time a rock poked me in the back."

"I shall make certain there are no rocks."

"So will I. My bed is free of them."

"So it is," she murmured, kissing his neck. "Sing to me, Sev. I have missed your beautiful voice these many months. I hear it only in my dreams and when I wake I remember you are far away and my heart cries out with loneliness."

"Your dreams and mine sound the same, beloved." He told her sincerely, his hands stroking her arm and then moving lower. "You know I think my voice is terrible."

"Yes, but trust me when I say it's not. I have heard many a bard sing at Titania's court and you could match them, Sev. Trust me." She gave him a wistful look and he gave in.

"Very well. What do you want to hear?"

"Surprise me."

He was silent for five minutes, trying to come up with a song that would tell her how he felt about her and also one that he could sing without making a fool out of himself. Finally he recalled an old ballad of the Seelie Court, a lovely piece that would not stretch his range too much. He cleared his throat and began to sing, while the silver bells above in the tree branches tinkled merrily.

_"One day I fell in love_

_With an auburn-haired lass_

_I loved her long, I loved her deeply_

_'Till the day she was taken from me._

_I mourned her long, I mourned her deeply_

_I swore that love would never claim me,_

_The way it did then. Once my heart had loved that way_

_But it never would again._

_"For long years I traveled, my heart cold as stone_

_Love had abandoned me, I was alone._

_Till one morning I spied a maid walking_

_She was dark and small, she looked nothing_

_Like my lady at all, and yet_

_She called to me._

_She called to the heart_

_That had broken that day,_

_The heart that had shattered_

_And bid it to stay._

_"Come away, beautiful stranger, come away_

_To the lands of the undying, your heart I shall mend_

_What loved once, can love once again._

_Come away, come away, come away with me_

_Let my love set you free._

_"But my heart was afraid and thus did I flee_

_The dark maid of the wood, who desired me._

_"Come back, come back, for I love thee,_

_With all of my heart and all that I be._

_"No, I cried, let me be!_

_My heart is long gone and naught left for thee._

_She did not heed, she came for me_

_Over hill and over dale, for three days she pursued_

_Through sun, wind, and hail._

_"Come away, beautiful stranger, come away_

_To the lands of the undying, your heart I shall mend._

_What loved once, can love once again._

_Come away, come away, my heart have you bound_

_In chains stronger than iron, my soulmate I've found._

_She spoke a truth I could not deny, and thus did I go_

_Over sea and under stone, where the earth meets the sky._

_On the shore of the undying land she did free me,_

_And at last my heart loved the way it had then,_

_Loved a maid bright and true_

_And, dearest love, that maid was you."_

Sarai was swept away by the seductive power in his voice, that silky timber that made all of her bones turn to jelly, that caused her heart to race, there was nothing else like it, and her heart thrilled to it.

Severus ended the song with a kiss, as was traditional, and Sarai held him close, knowing full well he had chosen that particular song because it described them so well. Theirs was a love of second chances, an impossible love, but one that had stood the test of time and distance and still it burned with an enduring flame that refused to die.

"What the heart loved once, it can love once again," she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair.

"Yes. Dear God, yes!" was all he managed before she captured his mouth once more.

Tendrils of desire, so long suppressed, spiraled through him, till he burned with the heat and need, of a pleasure long denied out of duty that now could be satisfied. He spoke a word and they were transported to his bedroom, where the elves had thoughtfully turned down the sheets and scented them with attar of roses.

Sarai inhaled the fragrance of the perfume as Severus's hands skimmed her dress, unbuttoning it with swift fingers. "Mmm, smells like a rose garden."

"Yes. But you are the most beautiful flower in it," Severus said huskily, undoing the last button and letting the dress fall to the floor in a puddle of silk and satin.

Her hands quickly removed his robes, trousers, and shirt as well, and she admired every lean inch of him before dragging him over to the bed. And thus did Severus fulfill the last of her wishes, with ardent tender lovemaking until the dawn, when they fell asleep entwined together, dreaming of more than sugar plums.

* * * * * *

Harry awoke to the smell of bacon frying and sniffed in delight, stretching leisurely, before climbing out of his warm bed and running next door to Draco's room to shake his sleep-loving brother awake.

"Hey, lazybones! Wake up!"

Draco groaned, opened an eye, and growled, "What for?"

"It's Christmas, Dragon, now get up!"

"M'tired."

"Oh, for the love of Merlin!" Harry sighed, then he waved his wand and levitated his brother out of his cozy nest and dropped him on the floor.

"Ow! Hey! What happened to my bed?" Draco yelped, rubbing his bottom, which had taken the brunt of the fall, Harry had made sure of that.

"Nothing. You're just not in it anymore," Harry stated, smirking.

Draco gave him a lethal glare. "Remind me again why I can't kill you."

"Because it's Christmas and Dad won't let you," Harry laughed. "C'mon, Dragon. You can't oversleep on Christmas."

Draco sighed and stood up. "You're lucky I like you, baby brother." He stalked out the door, all injured dignity, still rubbing his backside.

The aroma of breakfast soon drew the two teenagers into the kitchen, where they found Severus and Sarai sitting at the table enjoying a fine home-cooked breakfast, made by Damson and Danae, while Dobby served them juice and tea.

On the table was a bowl full of merlinnas and Harry gave a cry of delight and summoned one and bit into it. He sighed in bliss, juice dribbling down his chin. There was nothing like merlinnas and they only grew in fae soil.

"Harry, you have the manners of a pig," Draco remarked.

"So what?" his brother mumbled, taking another bite of the luscious fruit. Merlinnas were his passion and he had been craving them for months, enough so things like table manners were null and void.

"At least sit down and eat," Severus remonstrated.

Harry did. He finished the merlinna, ate another, and then ate the fluffy eggs, potatoes, bacon, and toast the elves had made.

Since it was Christmas, Severus did not make the boys clean up afterwards as he usually did, though he did warn them that after Christmas was over, the elves would go back to Hogwarts and their usual chores would resume.

"Tell me we don't have to do the laundry by hand again," Harry groaned.

"Only if you're in trouble, Phoenix," Severus said. "So behave and you won't need to worry about it."

"Okay, Dad," his son agreed, then they all retired to the den, where mounds of presents, or so it seemed to Harry, who had never celebrated a real family Christmas, awaited them.

"Sarai, would you do the honors?" Severus invited. "You two sit here, beside me, and Sarai will hand you a present. You each open one at a time, so you can see who gave it to you and what it is before getting another one."

"And so he can see what you received also," Sarai added impishly. She reached under the tree for a present wrapped in Snitches. "Harry, this is for you. From your Aunt Petunia and godfather, Sirius."

Harry carefully opened it. Inside a box was a personal practice Snitch and a warm gold and red cap and gloves, knitted by Petunia. The card inside read: _Merry Christmas, Harry! I got you this practice Snitch to sharpen your skills as Seeker, but Petunia insisted she make you something practical, so here's a cap and gloves you can wear when you're flying in freezing cold weather_.

Then it was Draco's turn. His first present was from Hermione, who had gotten him a Muggle book called _101 Things to Do Besides Sleep Away Your Holiday_. Inside she had highlighted _Call Your Girlfriend_.

Harry chuckled. "Merlin, but she sure knows you really well."

"Ah, be quiet." Draco ordered playfully. "Guess I'll have to write her since I can't call her." Also included with the book were a few bars of Muggle chocolate, which Draco had developed a fondness for ever since he had gone trick-or-treating with Hermione on Halloween *.

Harry received a box of Zonkos joke products from Ron and Draco a fine leather messenger bag from Crabbe, with his initials monogrammed on it as well as the Slytherin crest. Dudley gave Harry a space pen, it could write on almost any surface, including glass and could also glow in the dark. _I remember how you always wanted one of these and I wouldn't ever share mine with you. Hope you still like it! Merry Christmas, Dudley._

"Wow! This is great!"

"What is it?" Draco asked curiously.

"A space age pen. It writes on almost anything." He handed the pen to Draco.

"Hold it, young man!" Severus snapped. Draco had the pen poised to write upon the table. "That pen may be able to write on everything but you had better make damn sure the ink comes _off_ everything, or else you'll be scrubbing it away and writing _I will not draw on the furniture like a two-year-old_ a hundred times for me."

Draco halted and handed the pen back to Harry, who tucked it in his pocket. His next present was from Goyle, four box seats to the next Quidditch match.

Hermione's present to Harry was a book on solving riddles, no doubt aimed at his second task, and Katie had given him a lovely cloak of crimson lined with gold plus a box of chocolates from Honeydukes.

Then came the presents from their father.

For Harry, there was a small box embossed with a unicorn crest that he didn't recognize. He opened it and found a gold brooch inset with emeralds in the shape of a winged cat—a shimmerling. He gently picked it up and felt it warm to his touch. "Dad, is this magic?"

"Yes, it is. I had that made by a Seelie jewelcrafter, Harry. It has a spell on it that will allow you to call upon the Seelie Court for aid should you ever find yourself in dire peril. Touch the brooch and speak the phrase, "I, Harry Snape, call upon Titania's host for aid." They will answer it three times and then the brooch is spent. So use it wisely, son."

"Thanks, Dad!" Harry carefully pinned the brooch upon his cloak and then went to hug his father.

Draco opened the largest box yet and found that his father had recalled him mentioning wanting a new broom, since he had almost outgrown his Nimbus 2001. This broom was called a Serpentstrike 2002 and it was superfast and had snakes etched into the handle.

"I can't wait to try it out!" Draco cried, then he also rose and thanked Severus. "Just wait till you see what we got you." He looked at Harry. "Where is it?"

"In my room." Harry answered and summoned it. "Oh, and here's my present for you, Draco."

Draco took the present and unwrapped it. Inside was a handbook called _Tips and Tricks of the Master Seekers: How to Get the Most Out of Your Broom_. "Thank you, Harry. Here's yours."

It was a rather large box. Harry tore it open. Inside was a large bowl full of merlinnas and a folded note. _For that craving of yours, hope this satisfies it--Dragon. _He laughed and thanked his brother.

"Your turn, Dad," Harry said, handing Severus a package wrapped in green and red paper. "It's from me and Draco."

Severus opened it. Inside was a long black cloak with emerald green satin lining, and a replica of the Prince crest upon the closure. Along with the cloak was a note telling the owner of it that it was enchanted. Charms were woven into it –Warmth, Waterproofing, Fireproofing, and Comfort. He stared at the expensive garment and then at his sons in astonishment. "How on earth did you afford this?"

"We pooled our allowance you gave us at school and most of the money you gave us for Christmas presents," Draco answered. "Do you like it?"

"It's . . .a magnificent gift, boys. I will wear it everyday. Thank you," Severus was deeply touched at their thoughtfulness.

"Now it's my turn!" Sarai declared, her face lighting up like a mischievous child's. "First you, Sev." She pulled out a long package from the very back of the tree. "Joyous Yule to you, beloved."

Severus unwrapped the package and held up a black oak staff nearly as tall as he was. Upon the staff head was a carved falcon holding a sphere in its claws. All down the length of the staff were runes—runes of the Seelie Court. He stared at it then looked at Sarai. "How did you manage to purchase a Staff of the Magi? They cost thousands of Galleons."

"Yes, well, I did the carving myself and I had my Aunt Sharrilise, Titania's Court Enchantress, put the enchantments on the staff."

"What does it do?" asked Harry.

"It does many things, Harry. I don't have time to explain everything to you right now." He thanked Sarai and kissed her. "Joyous Yule to you, Sarai." He handed her a black velvet box.

"Is that what I think it is?" hissed Harry to Draco.

Draco elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut up! You'll ruin the moment."

Inside the box on a bed of green velvet, was a lovely marquee diamond, inset on either side with rainbow moonstones, those stones being highly prized by the Seelie.

"Oh!" Sarai gasped.

Severus took the ring and knelt before her, gently sliding it on her finger. "Sarai Kinsalari Valinek, I give you my heart along with this ring. Do you accept it?"

"Yes! A thousand times yes!" she cried. "I love you and only you and shall have no other, Severus Tobias Snape."

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes, as soon as I am free of my contract. Then nothing shall keep us apart." There were tears in her eyes as she leaned over and kissed Snape.

The boys clapped and hooted and even the house elves cheered.

"One last present, boys." Sarai announced, and she pulled a rather large crate draped with a red and white striped blanket inbetween the two. "This one is from me. Because every boy should have one."

Draco and Harry were mystified. What could it be? A sword? A suit of armor?

Draco carefully pulled off the blanket and Harry unlatched the crate. He peered inside, trying to see what was there.

Suddenly a long pink tongue swiped his whole face.

"Hey!"

It was quickly followed by an inquisitive black nose and the slender features of a misthound, renowned for their ability to never lose a scent and remain loyal to their master forever. The misthound puppy walked out of the crate, he was a light cream color with soft floppy ears and a brush tail, though the rest of him was shorthaired. His legs were long and slender, and he appeared to dance as he moved. "A puppy!" Harry cried, stroking the dog, whose tail began to wag. "He looks like a cross between a borzoi and a Great Dane."

"He's a misthound, Harry," Sarai said. "A fae breed. This one is from Prince Balin's own kennels, the son of one of his favorite hounds. He is four months old and fully housebroken, though he does like to chew shoes and such."

The puppy turned and raced over to Draco and jumped up and washed his face also. "Ugh! Dog germs!" he sputtered, then he laughed because the puppy looked insulted. He petted the misthound's ears, which were silky. "Misthounds are really smart. Aren't they?"

"Yes. You will find he learns quickly and he will be the most loyal friend you could ever have so long as you treat him well." Sarai beamed.

"Does he have a name?" Harry asked, as the dog bounded back over to him and jumped in his lap.

"No, that is something you two have to choose." Sarai said.

"And remember, this dog is _your_ responsibility, am I clear?" Severus interjected. "That means you feed him, brush him, and walk him. And any trouble he gets into, you are also responsible for."

"We understand, Dad," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "What kind of food does he eat?"

"Right now, bread soaked in meat juice and ground beef," answered the half-fae warrior. "Later on he can eat any sort of meat or bread and even vegetables cut into pieces. Balin feeds his dogs a kind of stew. They thrive on it."

The puppy gave a soft yip, ran over to Sarai and jumped up and licked her under the chin, his tail wagging. She stroked his head. Then he jumped down and did the same thing to Severus.

"What's he doing that for?" asked Harry, sensing it was for a reason.

"He's establishing the hierarchy of his pack," Sarai explained. "He licks me and Sev this way because he knows we're alpha to him. And you and Draco are beta."

"He's a smart dog," Severus said, and gently tickled the puppy's ears.

Draco stood. "Let's take him outside, Harry. Misthounds like to run and he can't hurt anything out there."

"All right. And maybe we'll think of a good name for him too." Harry said, and he whistled softly. "Here, boy. Come!"

The puppy rose and ran over to them, wagging his tail and yipping.

"Inside the crate you'll find a lead and collar, dishes, a brush, and some toys and a blanket," said Sarai.

Harry looked and found a red ball, which he took with him.

The two boys and the misthound spent a half-an-hour playing outside, running and chasing the ball and having a glorious time. Finally the little puppy tired and lay down in front of their feet, panting and sleepy.

"He's an awesome dog!" said Harry, petting the silken ears.

"Yes. And a noble one." Draco said. "Got any ideas what we should name him?"

Harry thought and thought. Finally he said, "How about Cafall, you know, after the white hound of King Arthur? He was a noble and regal dog."

Draco considered. The misthound did have a regal look about him and Draco had always liked the legends of Arthur Pendragon. "Yes. I like that name. Cafall it is."

"This is the best Christmas ever," his brother said.

Draco nodded happily and continued stroking their new puppy. "And tomorrow we go and see Uncle Phil."

"I can't wait. Hope he likes dogs." Draco said. Then he summoned his new broom and went flying.

Sarai and Severus watched from the back entrance as Draco swooped and dived, sending Cafall into a frenzy of puppy barks and the dog tried several times to jump and catch the laughing Draco, till Harry whistled him down and started a game of fetch with him. The four-month-old puppy proved to be an expert at catch and retrieve, nearly always bringing the red ball back.

"I still can't believe you talked me into this," Severus said, sighing. "The last thing I need is to train a dog, Sarai."

"Oh, quit grumbling, Sev. The dog is a fae animal, and that means he has a brain and can use it, unlike your mortal animals. A misthound is not an ordinary pet, he will be a companion to the boys and love them and protect them. When he is older, maybe about a year or so, he will be able to mindspeak. I had one, her name was Whitethorn, until she died, and there was never a more steadfast companion than she was. When all the court mocked me for trying to become a Blade, Whitethorn remained my true friend, and trusted me to show them all what I was made of, and so I did. Your boys have been through a lot and the dog will let them play and be ordinary children for once, without the burdens placed upon them by circumstance and position. Look at them, beloved. Look at how they smile and laugh at the puppy, and think about how often you have seen them do so. Doesn't it make your heart lighter?"

"Yes. It does," Severus said slowly, watching as Harry raced after the misthound, who darted like a wraith in and out of the trees, then doubled back and ran inbetween the boy's feet, tripping him and making him fall. But no sooner had he landed on the ground, then Cafall was on top of him, and the two rolled and wrestled in the grass. Then Draco landed and offered the broom to Harry, who brushed himself off and mounted it, letting his brother romp with the puppy, who seemed to never grow tired.

"I never had a pet when I was young, perhaps this will be good for them." Severus mused, as the puppy and Draco played beneath the merlinnas. "Will you be joining us when we visit Philip and his family?"

"As long as he doesn't mind one more," Sarai answered. "We met before, at Titania's behest, and he seems like an honorable Nightwalker. A little hot-tempered, but then all you Snapes are that way."

"It's the family curse," the Potions Master said wryly. "And Philip has already assured me that you are welcome at his home." Then he continued watching his sons and their new puppy, his arm about his half-fae warrior.

* * * * * *

_Cottage-by-the-sea:_

"They're here! They're here!" screamed two children's voices, and Setus and Siren jumped down from the bay window seat and scampered towards the door, each one grinning widely, so their tiny fangs showed. Both wanted to be first to open the door for their new relatives, and pushed each other as they stampeded down the hallway.

"It's my turn!"

"No, mine! You opened the door for Dad last time!"

"Boys, if you don't quit yelling and running about like maniacs, _I'm _opening the door," their mother called from the entrance to the kitchen. She had just finished basting the ham and despite the apron tied about her looked very regal in her gorgeous midnight-blue dress. Her light brown hair was piled artfully atop her head and her hazel eyes accented by a touch of cobalt eyeliner. She wore a simple sapphire pendant on a gold chain about her neck. She quickly banished the apron and smoothed out the dress, nibbling nervously on her lower lip. _Phil, our guests are here,_ she mindcalled to her husband, who was reading a book in his chair before the fire.

The twins immediately slowed at that threat and managed to reach the door without further mishaps. Setus grasped the handle and pulled it just as Harry's hand lifted to knock on the door.

Paradoxically, as soon as the door swung open and Siren caught sight of Harry, he became shy and ran over to hide behind his mother, peering out from behind her skirts. Both twins were dressed in brand new jeans and polo shirts, Siren's was emerald green and Setus' ocean blue, with matching socks and black sneakers.

Setus, however, was grinning and talking a mile a minute. "Hi! Welcome to our sea cottage. Who're you? Are you my cousin? I'm Setus, and I'm four and a half. How old are you?"

Harry stared down at a miniature version of Phil, down to the dark hair and wide violet eyes. The kid was one of the most adorable Harry had ever seen, including the budding fangs. "Hello. I'm fourteen and my name's Harry."

"Setus, let them in the door before you attack them with questions," Julie said, coming up and drawing her overeager child back so that Harry, Severus, Sarai, and Draco, who was holding Cafall, could come in.

"Welcome to my home, I am Julie, do come in," the vampire invited, smiling carefully so as not to alarm her guests. "That's Setus, and this is his twin, Siren." She indicated the little boy still clinging to her dress, who looked up at her uncertainly. "He's a bit shy till he gets to know you. Siren, can you say hello to your cousins?"

"Hello," came a very faint whisper from behind a fold of Julie's gown.

Then Phil was there, greeting Severus and bowing over Sarai's hand in his courtly fashion, his violet eyes twinkling. He was wearing a very nice black suit and tie that complimented his handsome face perfectly. "I'm so glad you could make it and I can see you've all had a very Merry Christmas." His eyes caught sight of Sarai's ring and he grinned broadly. "Ah, so you finally proposed, did you, Sev? I was wondering how long it would take you after the hints I'd been dropping."

"I had been planning to anyway, Mr. Matchmaker," replied Severus smugly.

"Congratulations!" Julie said, and she bent to examine the ring. "Oh, it's gorgeous! The Snape men have good taste, my lady."

Sarai laughed. "They do indeed. Thank you. And please, call me Sarai. I am a lady only in my cousin's court."

Julie then showed her the ring Phil had given her, a beautiful carat diamond set in a platinum band with two other diamonds flanking it. "I got those added after the twins were born," she told Sarai. "Do come into the den. I have some appetizers for you and some sherbert punch that I think you'll like." She turned to go, Siren still clinging stubbornly to her.

Just then Cafall wriggled free of Draco's hold and trotted over to the boy, sniffing him and licking him. The puppy lowered his front end to the floor, his backside sticking up, and barked, tail wagging like a metronome.

"Cafall, come back here," Draco called softly. "You'll scare the kid."

But Siren slowly let go of Julie's dress and took a step towards the puppy. Cafall panted happily, his blue eyes glowing with trust. _Play with me! Come and play!_

Siren's eyes widened. "Mama, he wants me to play with him! He said so."

"Go ahead then, son," Phil encouraged. "He won't bite you."

Tentatively, the little vampire put out a hand and Cafall promptly swiped it with his tongue. "Ahh, that tickles!" giggled Siren. "Silly dog!"

Cafall jumped up and licked the boy all over. _Play now? Play? Please?_

Still giggiling, Siren pushed the puppy off him. "Okay. I'll play with you. On the beach. Okay, Mama?"

"Yes, so long as you don't go swimming in the ocean."

"Me too! I wanna play with him." Setus cried. "What's his name?"

"His name's Cafall, and we just got him for Christmas," Harry explained. "Down, boy!" he ordered when the puppy would have jumped up on Julie.

Cafall sat obediently.

"How come I didn't get a dog for Christmas?" Setus demanded.

"Because Father Christmas knows you're too young for a dog," Phil told him.

"Am not!" his son insisted stubbornly. "I'm four-and-a-_half_, Dad!"

"You need to be seven in order to take care of a dog, Setus Snape," said his father firmly. "Old enough to walk it and clean up after it and feed it."

"No fair! I want a dog for Christmas." Setus sulked.

"Someday you'll get one . . .if you behave." Phil said, a warning tone in his voice. "Now quit sulking and go play with your cousins and brother, or else you can spend ten minutes in your room. You know how I dislike that attitude, young man."

His son flashed him one more indignant look before running towards the back door of the cottage, yelling, "C'mon, slowpokes! Let's chase the gulls!"

Cafall, Siren, and Harry and Draco followed. There was a path from the cottage that led directly to the beach and soon all four children and the misthound were running down it.

"That boy!" Phil shook his head. "Sometimes I just want to shake him. He wants everything he sees lately and if he doesn't get his way, he sulks and whines. Drives me crazy."

"Draco was like that too," Severus recalled. "Lucius and Narcissa spoiled him. It took me a year to break him of crying and whining whenever he didn't get his own way."

"How did you do it?" Julie asked.

"Mostly I'd ignore him when he started acting up. Sometimes, if he was being particularly obnoxious, I'd give him a time out. Once though, he went on a rampage, threw himself on the floor, screeching, kicking, and when I went to put him in the corner, he bit me. _That_ time I gave him a smack on the behind and an extra minute with his nose to a wall. He soon learned not to test me."

"Maybe I need to try that," mused the young vampire mother. Then they all went into the den, which was a cozy room with plump couches done in aquamarine and sand tones, and which had rag rugs on the slate floor in matching tones of peach, aqua, sand, and lavender. Upon the stone walls were seascape portraits and a whale leaping and several fish were mounted.

"The people we rented the cottage from must have been fishermen," Phil said, indicating the fish upon the wall. "First day we arrived, Setus tried to climb the wall and touch one, nearly knocked it down and broke his little neck. After that, I put a spell on the wall so he couldn't come near them."

"Your son sounds like a daredevil," Sarai laughed. "My cousin Gavin was like that. He used to dare us to climb the seven foot statue of a unicorn in the palace entryway and ride it, even though he knew the unicorn was the sacred symbol of his House and not to be disrespected."

"Setus has given me heart failure more than once," Julie admitted. "Thank goodness Siren is more sensible and quiet. Although he can get into mischief too. He set a bucket of small crabs loose in the kitchen last week and it took me forever to find them all."

"Crabs are better than army ants," Severus remarked. "The Marauders once brought an anthill inside the castle and broke it open in the Slytherin common room. We found ants everywhere for weeks, till Slughorn finally bought an ant eater to hunt the rest down. To this day I still cast anti-insect wards over my quarters."

Julie shuddered slightly. Then she said, "Here are some tea sandwiches and crab tarts, bourbon meatballs, spinach dip with vegetables, and chicken wings." There was a large tray upon the maple coffee table and off to the side upon a small sideboard was a silver punch bowl, ladel, and cups. "The punch is over there and we also have water and tea. Help yourselves, dinner won't be done till four."

"Did you make all of this yourself, Julie?" asked Sarai, biting into a crab tart. "These are divine."

"Most of it, but Phil did help. He fried the chicken."

"My specialty," the vampire smirked, handing one to his son.

* * * * * *

The children returned from playing in about half-an-hour (four-and-a-half year olds become bored easily) and once they had eaten some of the appetizers and drank the punch, Setus began pestering Phil to let his cousins open their presents.

"Why don't we wait till after dinner, scamp?"

"But that's so _long_!" Setus protested. "Can't they just open them now?"

He shot his father his best pleading stare.

Phil looked over at Severus. "Well? What do you think?"

Severus looked at the small vampire. "I think you'll never get any peace till you let him watch us open something. And vice versa."

"Please, Daddy? Please?" Setus pleaded. "I won't ask for a dog for Christmas."

"Setus, you're a little conniver," Phil groaned. "You're lucky you're cute. All right, go and get their presents. To hell with tradition."

Setus whooped and raced over to the small fir tree, where some presents still remained, wrapped in gold, red, and green foil paper with pretty bows on them. "Siren, come and help!" he called to his twin. "I can't carry them all."

Siren went over to help, luckily none of the presents were too large for the children to carry. They came and set them before Phil, who read the tags and told his twins who should get what.

Once all the presents had been parceled out, Severus clapped his hands and more presents appeared in front of him. "Here are yours, scamps." He handed a box each to Siren and Setus and floated over two smaller envelopes to the adult vampires.

Then they waited until Phil said it was time to open them before tearing into the paper. Soon paper littered the floor and Cafall was pouncing and rolling in it, while the twins shouted for joy over the Transmogrifying Tops Severus, Harry, and Draco had given them.

The tops could change into four other toys, including a stuffed dragon, a light-up ball, a flying wizard, and a toy train. Each time you spun the top, it would change, and you could make the toy it became stay for two hours by telling it to halt. You could reverse the change by spinning the toy around on the floor.

"Where on earth did you find those?" Phil asked.

"Diagon Alley, in the toy store," Severus replied. "Apparently they're all the rage this year and I was hoping you hadn't bought them one."

"This is the first time I'm seeing one," Phil said. "Thank you for the gift certificate, I can always use more potion ingredients."

"And I can always use more books. Phil says I need to open a library," Julie smiled, holding her gift certificate to _Flourish and Blotts_ close.

"Or buy the bookstore," her husband quipped.

"Mama loves to read. Like me," Siren put in, spinning his top and watching it change into a plush teddy bear. "Stay!" he called and the top remained a bear. "This is a very cool toy," he told the adults.

"And what do you say to your cousins?" Julie prompted.

"Thank you, Harry, Draco, Uncle Sev and Lady Sarai," the child recited, and then he gave a small hug to each of them, the bear gripped in one fist.

"Wow, Uncle Phil, these boots are wicked." Harry said, trying on a pair of soft suede black boots that came up to his calves and folded over. They were so comfortable, he never could remember a pair fitting him so well before.

"Yeah, I really like them," Draco agreed, trying his on.

Phil smirked. "Those boots are magically adjustable, and they're Boots of Stealth, meaning that with them on you can glide like a ghost over any surface, even a nightingale floor."

"What's a nightingale floor?" asked Harry.

"It's a floor created to trap thieves, it originated in Japan," Julie replied. "When you stepped wrong on it, a series of notes would play, like a nightingale singing, and awaken the household."

"Boots of Stealth?" Severus repeated in mock-horror. "What are you trying to do here, Philip, make my sons into amateur thieves. I already have a hard enough time keeping them in bed at night."

"Dad, _please!_" his two sons chorused indignantly.

Phil chuckled. "Oh, lighten up, Sev. That's part of being a teenager, sneaking out of the house without your father catching you."

"Humph! And how many times did you do it, I wonder?"

"Too many to remember," Phil snickered. "My poor father never had a chance, with me being a vampire. We belong to the night."

"Yeah! I love the dark! Grrr!" Setus cried, spinning around and then baring his small fangs at Cafall.

Cafall cocked his head, puzzled, then he puppy growled right back at the little vampire.

For about a minute the two stared each other down, then Cafall shook his head and jumped on the child, breaking the stalemate and making the adults chuckle.

"Maybe I ought to confiscate those boots," Severus threatened. "So you two won't be tempted into mischief back at school. Especially you, Mr. Snape."

"What? No fair!" Harry cried, tucking his feet under him so his father couldn't yank the boots off. "I haven't snuck out of my dorm room in at least . . .six months."

"We'll promise not to use them to sneak around unless it's an emergency," Draco bargained shrewdly. "Right, little brother?"

"Yeah, what he said."

"Very well. But the first time I catch either of you out of bed with those boots on, they're mine until you're of age. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," his sons agreed. "We promise."

Severus had received a whole case of rare potion ingredients and there was even a small bottle of perfume for Sarai, it smelled like strawberries and kiwi. Both of them thanked their vampire hosts for being so generous, and after they cleaned up the paper, it was time to go and eat dinner.

Besides the pineapple-honey glazed ham, there was roasted new potatoes, creamed spinach, fresh-baked rolls, almond rice, and carrots in brown sugar sauce. Everything was delicious, and they all stuffed themselves, except for Setus, who tried to feed his spinach and carrots to Cafall, and was scolded by Phil.

"Son, you need to eat your vegetables to stay healthy."

"Why? I'm a vampire and they're yucky."

"You know, you're lucky to have vegetables that taste good. When I was your age, all of our vegetables were stewed or boiled till they were mush and they tasted awful and I still had to eat them."

Setus scowled at his plate. "Cafall likes 'em better."

"Setus, eat your vegetables, or else no sweets," Julie interjected. "They won't kill you."

"They will too," the rebellious child muttered, but after a swift glare from his father, he reluctantly began to eat them.

After they had eaten the dessert, which was a chocolate layer cake that no one complained over, Setus and Siren took Harry and Draco outside to play hide-and-go-seek in the dark.

The two boys soon discovered that the little vampires were experts at that game, and invariably found them wherever they hid and yet they could hide so well neither of the wizards could find them unless they used magic, which was cheating.

They played until the two kids were exhausted and Julie called them inside for bed.

"Aww, Ma!" whined Setus. "I was just gonna show them how I can hang upside down like a bat."

"You can show them that some other time, young Snape."

Draco swung the boisterous Setus onto his shoulder. "C'mon, Setus. I'll read you a story if you go to bed like your mama says."

Setus agreed and Draco raced into the house with him.

Siren looked up at Harry, who knelt down and asked the quiet youngster, who reminded him of himself, "Would you like a ride too?"

"Yes, please."

Harry scooped him up on his shoulder. "There you go."

Siren smiled. "Setus thinks if he fusses, Mama will let him stay up, but I know she won't. That's for when we're bigger, like you."

"You're a smart one, kid," Harry chuckled. "But you know what? I'm ten years older than you and my dad still tells me when to go to bed."

"He _does_?"

"Yeah, only sometimes I can talk him out of it. Do you want me to read you a story too?"

"Yes. Do you know any good ones?"

"Um . . .I'm sure I can come up with a few," Harry said, then he carried the small vampire all the way into the cottage and down the hall to the room he shared with his brother.

* * * * * *

Two stories later, all four boys were asleep, the twins in their little beds and Harry and Draco in the chairs beside them. Cafall had followed them inside and was snoozing on Harry's foot, his feet racing as he dreamed of chasing a huge hare.

Ten minutes later, Severus and Phil came to check on them, making sure the twins hadn't tied up Harry and Draco in the bedsheets, and found them all fast asleep.

The two fathers looked at each other in astonishment and then Phil said, "Don't bother to wake them, Sev. Just spend the night here."

"Phil, I couldn't . . ."

"You can and you will." The vampire lord interrupted. "We'll transfigure the chairs into beds and you and Sarai can have my room for the night."

"No, I won't kick you out of your bed!"

"Severus, we won't be using it, Julie and I need to hunt and tonight's the best time, with you here to watch the twins." Phil said. "Now quit arguing and just accept my invitation, you stubborn ass."

"If you're sure . . ."

"Positive. Merry Christmas, Sev."

Then Phil winked and vanished, leaving Severus no choice but to accept his hospitality. Severus swore, then went to tell Sarai that they would be staying over, and the warrior chuckled at his being outmaneuvered by a thousand-year-old vampire.

***see my Halloween story Trick or Treat Slytherin Style for Draco and Hermione's adventures, if you haven't read it already.**

**Thanks to everyone who has been patiently awaiting this update and I hope you all like it. **

**For all of you who were wondering where Smidgen is, she's at the fae court running a few errands for the queen, she'll be back next chapter.**

**Next: Harry returns to school and the next challenge must be faced, can he solve the riddle in time? And is there more to the Sphinx's test?**


	23. Riddle Me This

**Riddle Me This**

It was the first week back after the holiday break and Harry was still pondering the riddle he had been given. He was walking along the shore of the Black Lake, where the giant squid could often be seen on sunny days. But today was overcast and Decius was below, keeping warm in the mud or whatever squids did when the temperature dropped. Harry himself was wrapped from neck to feet in his Christmas cloak from Katie, a scarf, gloves, and a hat. He felt like a walking advertisement for Wizard Warm Wear, but Severus had insisted he bundle up, so he didn't risk getting bronchitis. From his days with the Dursleys, Harry had become susceptible to upper respiratory infections, and was usually prone to getting one every winter. But Severus was determined his son would not be following that pattern this year, and so he forced his son to dress warmly when he went walking and eat three meals a day and drink an Immunity Defense potion every other week.

Harry's response to that had been to tell Severus, "God, Dad, you fuss worse than Mrs. Weasley!"

Severus' response had been to give Harry a double dose of potion and order him to stay inside and help him mark papers. When his son protested, his father had said silkily, "Next time don't get cheeky, Mr. Snape. Or else next time I shall come up to your dorm and wrap a scarf about you and put a hat on you like you were six, and I won't care who sees me do it."

"You wouldn't!"

"Try me."

Their eyes met and Harry looked away first. He had been wrong. Severus would indeed do it, he knew all too well what a potent motivator embarrassment was, and when it came to his son's health he could be utterly ruthless.

So, anxious to avoid becoming a laughingstock, Harry had put on his winter wear. Ahead of him in the grass, Cafall frolicked, chasing whatever happened to cross his path. The misthound puppy was a natural hunter, having been bred to catch magical prey, and he loved nothing better than a good chase. Harry had charmed his collar though, so he couldn't run off the grounds and into the Forbidden Forest.

Over the rest of the break, Harry and Draco had taught the puppy several basic commands, and also to return to them when they whistled. Cafall was a fairly obedient dog and eager to please and he almost always returned to the whistle. The one exception had been when he had gotten stuck in a hollow log while chasing a rabbit at the manor and required help to get out.

Harry grinned as Cafall's furry tail disappeared in the long grass as he stalked something. He continued his walk about the lake, still musing on his riddle challenge, when he caught sight of a familiar pair lounging up against a tree.

Or at least Duncan was lounging, in his fae form he looked utterly gorgeous and equally unapproachable, due to the small blond witch sitting in his lap. The kelpie had been Luna's escort to the Yule Ball, and it seemed that Harry and Katie's attempt at matchmaking had borne fruit. The long-legged water horse was wearing his customary black velvet attire and Luna was dressed, for her, in a more conservative radish colored blouse and silvery gray skirt with her robes over it, since it was cold out.

Luna was laughing up at him, her blue eyes glowing with affection, and Duncan was giving her a smile that could put Eros, God of Love to shame. It was a sweet seductive smile, one that only a fae creature could pull off, and then the kelpie began to sing.

Harry stopped dead, all thoughts of riddles fled his mind after hearing the kelpie break into song.

Like many water fae, Duncan's voice was superb, in fact no mortal singer could match it, and he had had centuries to perfect it, learning nuances and shades of timbre and pitch so subtle and compelling that any who heard him fell instantly under his spell.

That day he was singing about a girl and a winter's night, when she went to meet her love to go sleighing down by the pond. It was a lovely piece, and Duncan was singing it with just the right amount of romantic nuance to make any girl's heart throb. Personally, Harry figured that Duncan could sing "Old MacDonald Had a Farm," and people would flock to listen to it. If Duncan ever sang upon the WWN, he would be an instant smash hit.

When Duncan had finished, Luna clapped and hugged him. "Oh, that was just lovely! I swear, Duncan, your voice just transports me to another plane of existence."

The kelpie grinned and chuckled. Even his laugh sounded musical. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing, little moonbeam?"

"It's a very good thing," she assured him. Then she turned her head and saw Harry standing there. "Hi, Harry! What are you doing out here alone?"

"Hi, Luna! Hello, Duncan!" he approached them. "Came out here to clear my head and focus on solving this riddle. But I'm not here alone. Cafall came with me. He's off tracking something that way," he waved his hand in the general direction of the trees beyond the lakeshore.

"Aww! He's such a sweet puppy!" Luna gushed, she loved all sorts of animals, and the misthound was a lovable scamp. Unless he was caught chewing Severus' dragonhide boots, that is.

Duncan laughed. "All puppies are sweet. Until they grow up into dogs and then they're a nuisance." The water horse had never gotten used to the human and High Court fae need to have pets and thought it odd to keep an animal obedient to one's will.

"Someday I'd like a dog. Or maybe a kitten." Luna said dreamily.

"But until then, you have me to ride, sweet one." And with that, the kelpie shifted from his fae form into a glorious black stallion with seashells entwined in his mane and tail.

Harry watched as Luna mounted gracefully and Duncan raced all about the lakeshore, though he did not venture into the freezing water, since Luna would never be able to tolerate it. He smiled, happy to see two of his friends getting on so well. He had been skeptical at first, but now he saw that Luna really was a perfect match for the otherworldly kelpie. Luna had a look of utter adoration upon her face that made her glow as she rode. And Harry was almost certain that it came from loving the kelpie and not from being ensorcelled by Glamour.

Then he continued walking, his brow furrowed as he attempted to decipher the riddle. Normally he was good at such things, but this one . . .this one had him stumped. And it didn't help that he only had another month and a half to figure it out. The second task was scheduled to begin on February 24th at half past nine.

He came to a spot where a flat rock jutted up between two oak trees and sat down, sighing. He had known that the riddle wouldn't be easy, nothing in the tournament was, and especially not if a real Sphinx was involved. But he hadn't expected it to be this difficult either. He put his chin in his gloved hand and re-read the riddle again.

Still the answer eluded him.

Cafall frolicked back to him and lay down atop his feet, panting happily and gnawing a meaty bone Harry suspected he'd gotten from Hagrid. He tickled the puppy's silken ears and Cafall groaned in bliss, leaning into his hand.

"I sure wish I could figure this out, silly pup. I can almost . . .almost do it, but then . . ." He shook his head, stroking and rubbing the dog till he fell asleep. Then he straightened, scowling. "Blast and damn! Why is nothing ever easy for me?"

_:What fun would that be, young Snape?:_ Smidgen thought into his head. The dreamweaver shimmerling popped into view, her iridescent black coat gleaming in the sunlight, which also made her wings, lavender and turquoise, sparkle as she hovered in front of him. _:Well met, Harry! How was your vacation?:_

"Smidgen! You're back!" Harry exclaimed, happy to see the shimmerling again. "My break was wonderful. And you? Were you glad to be back at the Queen's court?"

_:I'm glad to hear that, Harry. You deserve to have a family who wants you.:_ Smidgen said tenderly. She landed on Harry's shoulder, her violet eyes gleaming with pure affection, and began to groom herself leisurely, purring. _:As for me, the court was the same as always. Full of intrigue and scheming. Titania kept me busy relaying messages about her new fete to her nobles and favorites. She even invited the Winter Queen so she wouldn't feel left out and cause trouble.:_

"You mean Maeve, the Queen of the Dark Sidhe?"

Smidgen nodded. _:They may be enemies, but even enemies must be shown certain courtesies. Offending Maeve would have resulted in much unpleasantness and the Unseelie cause too much of that as it is. So . . .I delivered a message to her. I don't know if she will come, probably not, but nevertheless she was invited.:_

"Seems like a lot of bother over someone you don't like."

_:Ah, Harry. You have much to learn of the way of the court. There is an old mortal saying, copied from my people, that you might do well to remember. "Keep your friends close but your enemies closer." Meaning it's safer to know exactly where your enemy is in front of you rather than worry about her plotting behind your back.:_

"I guess so." Harry shrugged. Right then he didn't want to dwell on court politics. "Smidgen, do you know of a way I could figure out an answer to this blasted riddle?" He showed her the parchment.

The shimmerling peered at it. _:I believe I know the answer, but it would be bad form for me to tell you. You're smart, you can figure it out.:_

"Well, you don't have to tell me exactly, but . . .could you give me a hint? Please?"

Smidgen considered. _:Very well. I can sense you're frustrated because you can "almost remember" the answer, but it continues to escape you. You know, Harry, there are things your mind knows that it sometimes cannot relay to you while you are awake.:_

"What do you mean?"

_:I mean that you have the means to solve the riddle, but you must sleep on it. Sometimes your subconscious mind can solve things twice as fast as your conscious one. Do you remember how we walked through your dreams to free you of your nightmares? You might have tried something similar using mortal . . .psychology I believe it's called, but it would have taken months to achieve the results I did in a few days. The mind is a powerful thing, Harry, and in dreams you may discover things you never thought you knew.:_

"So you're saying I ought to sleep on it and hope for the best?"

Smidgen nodded serenely. _:Yes, youngling. That is exactly what I'm suggesting. May the Bright One favor your endeavor. Now, I think it's time for a nap. Might I suggest you take one also?:_

"Now? It's the middle of the day!"

_:So? That's often the best time.:_ Smidgen replied, then yawned and curled up in the hollow of Harry's shoulder, snoozing a moment later, her wings folded along her back.

Harry smiled down at the little black cat, then decided to follow her advice. Smidgen was over five centuries old and she knew the ways of the mind better than any human psychologist ever could. He pointed his wand at the rock he was sitting on and transfigured it into a comfy recliner, so he wouldn't disturb the winged cat or the puppy napping at his feet. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes. Between Smidgen purring and Cafall keeping his feet toasty, he soon fell asleep.

_* * * * *_

_Smoke of a hazy lavender and gold surrounded him, and he walked forward until he came to the steps of an old Egyptian temple made of white marble and red brick, surrounded by sand dunes and date palms. He carefully climbed the steps, which were guarded by life-sized statues of lions, and entered the temple._

_It was lit by dozens of flickering torches and the inlaid tiles of lapis lazuli echoed as he made his way across the antechamber. In the center of the next chamber was a large basalt statue of Thoth, the ibis-headed god was holding a stylus and wax tablet, the tools of his craft. Thoth was the Egyptian god of writing, secrets, magic, and knowledge. _

_Harry looked up at the statue, which was many times his height, and to his shock, the Thoth statue bent its head and peered at him._

_"Greetings, young mage. I am Thoth, God of Knowledge and Magic and Writing. What knowledge do you seek?"_

_"I . . .um . . .seek an answer to a riddle." Harry stammered._

_"Ah." Thoth seemed to smile kindly, if such could be said of a bird-headed god. "Write the riddle down upon a tablet and lay it upon my altar. Then make an offering to me. If you are sincere, I shall attempt to decipher your question."_

_"An offering? Like what?"_

_But the statue was silent and Harry continued on past it and into the main room of the temple._

_Lamps glowed with oil and illuminated a stone altar upon which had been placed offerings of fruit, bread, ink, paper, styluses, and gold and silver jewelry, as well as clay faience beads and pottery jugs of honey and beer. A large golden platter was in the center of the altar, it was filled with pieces of papyrus, folded._

_Harry looked about for a piece of papyrus, and one appeared in his hand. So did a quill. He quickly wrote down the riddle, by now he had memorized it. Then he laid it down in the platter._

_Now for the offering. Harry examined the other offerings and thought rapidly. It seemed Thoth valued knowledge. He dug in his pocket and found a small scroll with some potions recipes Severus had given him. He reverently laid it on the altar. "Here. This was given to me by my father, a teacher of knowledge and magic, like you, Great Thoth. May it please you."_

_Then he stepped back._

_Once again he was wreathed in lavender colored smoke that smelled of jasmine and honey._

_When it cleared he was standing once more before Thoth's altar. It was empty of all save a plain wooden box bound with leather._

_"Seek within."_

_The voice echoed in the chamber and Harry jumped._

_But there was no one there._

_Trembling a bit, he walked over to the altar and drew his wand, mindful of what his father and Phil had taught him about opening strange chests and trunks. He cast a few spells to detect dark curses and traps, like poison needles. The chest was clean._

_Only then did he lower his wand and open the box._

_A brilliant light shone from it and Harry squinted against the glare. Then he reached within and drew out a piece of paper. _

_He shut the box and read what was written upon the paper._

_Then he let out a whoop of glee._

_He had the answer to the riddle at last!_

_Suddenly, the foundations of the temple began to shake and he turned and fled, running down the steps and out into the desert. . . _

* * * * * *

Harry woke still smelling the incense of the temple in his nostrils and he immediately sat up. Cafall yipped as the eager student disturbed him. "Sorry boy, go back to sleep. Gotta Summon something." He drew his wand and chanted, "Accio Tournament Scroll!"

A few moments later the original scroll soared into his hand. He picked it up and the translated version and wrote the answer to the riddle on the bottom of the translated scroll. "Smidgen, I did it!"

The shimmerling yawned. _:Congratulations! Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to rest.:_ She promptly closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

Harry waved his wand and reversed the transfiguration charm on the rock before walking softly back to the castle to find his father and tell him he had solved his riddle. The champions were scored on how quickly they accomplished both the translation and the riddle solving as well as the final task with the Sphinx. They had been instructed by Crouch to report immediately to any judge when they completed each stage of the task. Harry had already done so with the translation.

Harry soon reached Snape's quarters, he was discussing a potion with Phil, and unlocked the door with the password. "Hi, Dad. Hi, Uncle Phil. Guess what?"

The two Snape men looked up at him. "Hello, Harry. Make any headway with that riddle challenge yet?" asked the master vampire.

"Yes. I think I know the answer." Harry said excitedly. "I came here so you could see if I was right, Dad." Harry took the original scroll and whispered the answer to the riddle.

The parchment glowed a soft golden color for a brief moment.

Severus smiled proudly. "Well done, Harry. Let me take the scrolls now and write down the date and time in my judge's record." Severus summoned the small tablet that all the judges carried, it was inscribed on the front with a goblet in flames, made of midnight blue leather.

Phil clapped Harry on the shoulder and congratulated him as well, while Severus recorded the information in his log.

"Where's Sarai?"

"Sparring with your brother in that secret room of yours on the seventh floor," Phil answered.

"The Room of Requirement?"

"Yes, that's the one. He was restless and Sarai offered to teach him some new _kin-sa-dor_ moves."

Sarai had managed to get an extension on her stay from Titania, so instead of leaving on Twelfth Night, she would leave soon after the second task.

"Oh. That's good. Maybe I'll go and join them," Harry said. He had missed sparring with the Queen's Blade, even though Sarai was a strict teacher.

"Yes, it will do you good to brush up on your technique," Severus agreed. "Before you get sloppy."

Harry nodded. "May I go then?"

"Yes. I'll inform Mr. Crouch of your success. I think you're the first champion to complete both parts of this task so quickly."

Harry grinned, then he gently set the sleeping Smidgen down atop the sofa and raced out the door. He couldn't wait to share the good news with Draco and Sarai.

* * * * * *

_February 24th, 1994:_

The morning of the second task dawned crisp and fair, and Harry was awake at dawn, too nervous to sleep. He wondered what it would be like to face the Sphinx and hoped that she wouldn't be too intimidating. Phil had told him that sphinxes were generally peaceful creatures who enjoyed sunning themselves in oasises, and had a love for old books, scrolls, magical tomes, and puzzles of any kind. But they hated those who defiled books and used knowledge gained for harm or tried to destroy knowledge because they did not agree with it.

The Great Library of Alexandria in Egypt had been begun by a young Sphinx named Meron and it had been one of the great repositories of knowledge and magic for centuries. Some said that it still was, that Meron had used his own magic to take the Library out of time to preserve its works and that was why it had disappeared, leaving only rubble. Some also said that only those who loved knowledge for its own sake or had great need could discover the Key to the Library.

Sphinxes were very strong magically as well as physically and could, when angered, cast some very powerful spells as well as tear an enemy to shreds. The old legend of the Sphinx that guarded the path to Thebes who ate any who answered her riddle wrong was partially true. Those who answered wrong and who did not attempt to harm her she allowed to leave unharmed. But those who attacked her, she killed. The young Oedipus not only answered her riddle correctly, he also showed her respect, and so she allowed him to pass.

To this day, sphinxes were respected by most of the wizarding world, though the Ministry did not consider them an intelligent enough species to be granted a seat upon the Wizengamut, and they were classed as Magical Beings.

Harry dressed swiftly and hurried down to the hall for breakfast. He ate sparingly, his stomach was always touchy on the day of a major test and he didn't want to throw up. Phantom flew down and gave him a small package.

Opening it, Harry discovered a familiar fizzy pink potion and a note.

_For your queasiness. You'll do fine._

_Good luck._

_Love, Dad_

Harry rolled his eyes. Then he uncapped the vial and downed the Stomach Soother.

He made a mental note to thank his father after the task was done. Then the doors to the hall opened and the other students filed in.

All of the Gryffindors and some of the Slytherins wore Trust Snape badges and cheered when they saw Harry. The Hufflepuffs just ignored him and cheered Cedric when he walked through the doors. Krum sneered at Harry, surrounded by his Durmstrang crowd and Fleur gave him a polite smile, she liked him because he was quiet and unassuming, unlike the obnoxious Krum.

Then the staff filed in and when all were done with breakfast, Dumbledore led the way out to the Quidditch pitch, where a low stone wall had been erected across the pitch and filled with sand. Reclining gracefully upon the hot sand was a beautiful leonine sphinx.

Harry, who had seen them only in books, found that the reality of the great creature was far more impressive and overwhelming. She was nearly twenty-five feet long from head to tail, her leonine body rippled with muscle and was a tawny gold color. The tip of her tail was tufted and wrapped with a jeweled bracelet of pure gold with Thoth's symbol etched upon it. Her paws were the size of Harry's head, and stretched out before in the classic pose.

She turned her head and looked at the procession of champions, her eyes lighting with curiosity. She had the head of an attractive Egyptian woman, long dark hair spilled down her shoulders, she was crowned with a nemes headdress of striped blue and gold, and her eyes were outlined with kohl and crushed malachite, making them seem more luminous and larger. She had high cheekbones and a full mouth tinted ochre.

There was an aura of great age and majesty about her, the air fairly thrummed with magical energy.

Harry stopped dead upon meeting her eyes, which were a brilliant green color.

He only moved when Fleur nudged him in the back.

"She is very beautiful, no?" whispered the witch.

"Yeah. But it's not only that," Harry said. "She's so . . .awesome!" He couldn't find words to describe the magnificent creature.

Bagman was giving them back their scrolls and translations and telling them to step forward and stand before the sphinx, whose name was Nephthys.

"And mind you're polite and mind your manners, boys and girls, sphinxes are touchy about respect and you don't want to make her angry. Understand?"

All of them nodded, in awe of the legend lying just inside the wall.

They filed into the arena, first Cedric, then Harry, then Fleur and Krum was last, as they had been rated previously.

"Greetings, young wizards," said the sphinx in a musical soprano. Her voice was soft and low, and she had a faint accent, for English was not her first language. "I am Nephthys, and I have been asked to challenge you to a riddle contest. Your task for the Tournament was in two parts—to translate and solve the riddle I had given you and to answer a question or two from me. First, let us see how well you did on the first challenge. Cedric Diggory, step forward."

Cedric stepped forward, looking a bit nervous. His supporters chanted his name and waved Hufflepuff banners. He bowed before Nephthys. "Lady, here is the scroll I was asked to translate. It was in hieroglyphics."

"Ah. My native language," Nephthys purred. "Give me the scroll and read out your translation."

Cedric handed her the scroll, she took it delicately in her forepaw, which had flexible toes, almost like a human hand. Then he began to read the translation.

" _No legs have I to dance,  
No lungs have I to breathe,  
No life have I to live or die  
And yet I do all three.  
What am I?"_

Nephthys gave a small smile of approval. "Good. That is essentially correct. What is the answer?"

Cedric moistened his lips, then said, "I think the answer is _fire_."

The sphinx inclined her head to him and said loudly, "That is correct. You may stand off to my right. Next I call upon Harry Snape, who is tied for first place with Cedric Diggory. Step forward, Mr. Snape."

Harry followed Cedric's example and bowed to the sphinx. "Lady Nephthys, here is my scroll. It was written in ancient Greek and the translation reads as follows."

He cleared his throat and read in a clear even tone.

"_With no wings, I fly. With no eyes, I see. With no arms, I climb. More frightening than any beast, stronger than any foe. I am cunning, ruthless, and tall; in the end, I rule all. What am I?"_

Nephthys gave a soft purr of approval. "Very good! And how do you answer this riddle?"

Harry gulped then took a deep breath. He was almost positive he had gotten the right answer. "The answer is _imagination_."

His supporters cheered and flashed their badges and waved banners wildly.

Nephthys roared her approval. "Correct, Harry Snape! You also are a fair riddle worker. Go stand next to Cedric Diggory if you would."

"Thank you, my lady." Harry said and bowed again before going to stand next to Cedric, who flashed him a relieved grin.

"Fleur Delacour, come forth." Nephthys called.

Fleur came forward and handed her a scroll. "I had to translate cuneiform, ze writing of ancient Babylon and Sumeria." She began to read her riddle aloud.

" _I never was, am always to be, no one ever saw me, nor ever will. And yet I am the confidence of all who live and breathe on this terrestrial ball. What am I?"_

"Very good, Miss Delacour. And what is the answer?"

Fleur hesitated then said, very softly, "I think there is two answers, Lady. _One is ze future, ze other is tomorrow._"

Nephthys looked extremely pleased. "Excellent! You are correct. Once it's here it is no longer tomorrow but today. It's no longer the future but the present. Full marks!"

Then she called Krum, who bowed insolently to her. She glowered at him and he paled and gulped. "My translation vas in Aramaic. Here is vhat it said.

_The person who makes it has no need for it. The person who purchases it does not use it. The person who does use it does not know he or she is. What is it?"_

"Correct. Your answer, Mr. Krum?"

Krum coughed then looked the sphinx in the eye. "My answer is a coffin."

She nodded. "Also correct."

Krum smirked.

The scrolls vanished in a puff of smoke. Then she beckoned them forward. "Come closer, little champions. You have all passed the first of my little tests and shown me that you can use your heads and have the skills necessary to research a difficult subject and persevere in the face of a mental challenge, all important tasks for young wizards like yourselves. But now you must prove yourself able to think on your feet.

"I shall ask you all the same question. You will come up one by one and whisper the answer into my ear. There is only one correct answer, if you give a wrong answer you shall have fifteen minutes deducted from your next task, which will be to find that which you love best. Those who get it right shall have fifteen minutes added on to your original hour. You will note, each task I have given you is in two parts, that is deliberate as this is your second challenge. Are you prepared? Good."

Nephthys' green eyes gleamed. "What is a wizard's greatest power besides the magic that is your birthright?"

**Hi everyone, sorry I haven't updated this lately, but there was Thanksgiving and then I got started writing two other stories, he Apothecary Knows Best with RaeKelly and my newest Animagus fic, Moon Fire, I think I'm addicted to them, with Severus and Harry. Check them out if you'd like! **

**Anyway, in case you were wondering, I got all the riddles and their answers from a very helpful website. And the sphinx Nephthys--her name means "woman of the temple precincts" in ancient Egyptian.**

**Like this second task, it will be in two chapters, the finale of it is coming up next chapter.**

**Meantime, see if you can guess what a wizard's greatest power is besides magic.**

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this and stuck with me! And congratulations to those who answered Harry's riddle correctly, you rock!**


	24. A Power Beyond Magic

**A Power Beyond Magic**

There was dead silence following that statement, as the four champions paused to consider the sphinx's question. Nephthys waited patiently, unruffled, as an immortal she had nothing but time, and time had ever been her friend. She allowed them ten minutes, however, knowing how impatient the mortal wizard judges were, then she called them up one by one in reverse order.

"Your second task is this, you must search for that which you love best after you attempt to answer my last question. You may use any magic at your disposal except the dark spells, and the one who returns the fastest with that which he loved best shall be awarded the greatest number of points. You have an hour and a half. Viktor Krum, what is your answer?"

Krum strolled up to the humanoid with a confident cocky walk, and Nephthys bent her head so he could whisper his answer into her ear. "A wizard's greatest power beside magic is being able to cause enemies to fear him."

Nephthys raised an eyebrow. "Is that your final answer, Mr. Krum?"

Krum nodded assured he was right.

But the sphinx shook her head. "Incorrect. You shall forfeit fifteen minutes of time to complete your task."

Krum gaped. "But . . .but that is the truth!"

"For you, perhaps. But it is not a universal truth, and not all wizards desire to dominate others." Before he could protest further, she blew upon him and he vanished into a brilliant cloud of purple smoke. "You have an hour and fifteen minutes. Find that which you love most, Viktor Krum, and bring you both safe back here."

Then she called Fleur up and the Beauxbatons witch whispered that the answer was "Love."

Nephthys frowned. "While love is indeed a powerful factor in a wizard's life, I am looking for something that does not involve such fleeting emotions. It was a good try though. However, you too must endure the penalty, Miss Delacour. You have an hour and fifteen minutes."

"I understand, my lady." She bowed to the sphinx.

"Good. When I breathe upon you, you shall find yourself elsewhere. Your task is to find that which you love best, it is hidden from you, seek it however you can, and return safe to here."

"Yes, lady," Fleur said determinedly, her wand gripped firmly in her hand.

She closed her eyes as the sweet breath of the sphinx surrounded her and obscured her from view.

Next came Cedric, respectful and eager. "Lady Nephthys, I think the answer is knowledge."

"Hmm . . .a very close guess but still not what I was looking for. I must deduct points, Mr. Diggory. But since it was very close, I shall only deduct ten minutes. You have a hour and twenty minutes. Good luck and return safe!"

All the Hogwart's bystanders screamed and waved banners, jumping up and down.

Then Cedric disappeared inside a green cloud of smoke.

At last it was Harry's turn. He stood on tiptoe and whispered, "I think a wizard's greatest power besides his magic is his imagination. Because that's what lets a wizard come up with new spells and potions and a person with imagination can sometimes defeat a powerful opponent by being more imaginative than he is."

Nephthys roared her approval of Harry's answer. "Well done, Mr. Snape! You are the only candidate to answer the riddle correctly. A wizard's greatest power is imagination. The ability to make possible what was impossible. And now you may use that power along with your magic in The Land of Impossibilities, which is where I shall send you now to find that which you love best. You have fifteen extra minutes."

She drew in a breath.

"Wait!" Harry called. "What do you mean, I'm supposed to look for that which I love best? Is that a person or an object?"

Nephthys smirked. "As to that, Mr. Snape, only you can answer it. Think about it. You have one hour and forty-five minutes. Use it well and return safe to here."

Then she breathed upon Harry and he felt his world spin upside down as he breathed in the brilliant golden mist.

When his stomach stopped tumbling over and over and he dared to open his eyes, he was somewhere else . . .

* * * * * *

_The Land of Impossibilities:_

Harry opened his eyes and came face to face with . . .a dragon.

And not just any dragon, but an ill-tempered broody Hungarian Horntail, the most dangerous of all the dragon breeds.

The dragon roared at him and swung her huge head down, jaws agape.

Harry stumbled backwards and shouted out a Conjunctivitis Curse, the spell blasted away from his wand and struck the beast directly in the eye, making it screech in pain. As it shook its massive head, Harry moved away, thanking all those practice sessions he'd put in Defense with his father and Philip and also with his students in the Dueling Club. Now his reactions and accuracy had finally paid off.

But he discovered he was on bare rock, with nowhere to hide, the nearest cover was a forest some twenty feet away. _Bloody hell, I wish I had my Invisibility Cloak!_

No sooner had the thought entered his mind, he found the cloak about him. _Huh? How did that happen? I can't do wandless charms yet._ Not about to question his good fortune, he tugged the hood over his head and disappeared, running as quickly as he could over the flat rocky outcropping towards the cover of the forest.

Behind him, the aggravated dragon spread her wings and pursued.

Harry didn't know how she could still find him, invisible, then he recalled that dragons had a very keen sense of smell and hearing also, like most predators. _Crap! I need to confuse her nose. But how?_

He thought frantically, thrusting his left hand into his cloak pocket. He felt about inside and came up with a round black ball. "A dungbomb! I forgot I'd put one in there, just in case one of those idiots tried to ambush me again." He tossed it down and it blew up, covering him with a foul stench.

He nearly lost his breakfast right there.

Gagging and holding his nose shut, he forced himself to run through the fetid cloud. _Damn, I should have thrown it a little further away from me. Merlin, but I feel like I'm gonna puke my guts all over._

His eyes streaming, he continued onwards, hearing the dragon shriek in disgust as the horrid stench blew right back at her.

Harry managed to gain the cover of the trees before he succumbed to the foul odor and vomited all over. _Stupid! Stupid!_ he castigated himself mentally as he heaved. _You forgot to allow for the radius of the effect. Dad would be ashamed of you._

At last he got himself under control, still angry at himself. It would do him no good to escape one adversary only to weaken himself with his own oversight.

He could hear the dragon bellowing and the whoosh of fire in the distance. He hoped she had gotten a good whiff of the dungbomb.

He glanced about. He was in a coniferous forest, but all was quiet, not even a bird chirped or a squirrel rustled in the undergrowth. It was eerily silent, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. _I don't like this. Not at all. When it goes still like this it means danger is nearby. I remember what it felt like in the Deepwood, before the Unseelie ambushed us. It felt this way, all tense and quiet, as if the forest was listening for the approach of something terrible._

He began to walk quickly through the trees, hoping that whatever it was wasn't attracted to the smell of vomit.

He pondered what the sphinx had meant about finding what he loved best. Somehow he didn't think it pertained to an object, for the simple reason that possessions, even the Invisibility Cloak, just didn't mean that much to him. They were things, but he did not value them above a person's life.

Who did he love best then?

The obvious answer was his family—Severus and Draco.

And yet that was wrong too. While his love for his family was strong, there was another whom he loved, loved with equal passion and in a way that transcended the bonds of family.

He loved Katie Bell.

Suddenly it hit him. She had not been there to wish him good luck the way she always had before, nor had he seen her with the other Gryffindors wearing the _Support Snape_ badges. She had been missing and he had been too concerned over the task to notice! _Some boyfriend you are, Harry Snape! Your girlfriend goes missing and you don't even notice! What have they done with her?_

He was tempted to rush off through the trees like a hotheaded frantic teenager. That was how he would have behaved a year ago, or two years ago, before he had been taught to think and not just react. Before he had undergone multiple lessons on considering every possibility before acting upon his impulses. He forced himself to take several deep breaths and regulate his heartbeat the way Phil and Severus had taught him.

He now knew two important things. That he had to find Katie and that he had . . .he looked at his watch . . .an hour and thirty-five minutes to do it in.

He looked about him again, but all he could see were trees, endless trees in every direction. He swore angrily, thanking Merlin Severus was not nearby to hear him. How was he supposed to locate Katie when he didn't even know where he was or where he was to go?

_Think, Snape! If you want to find someone, what do you do? You cast a Locator Charm, you dunderhead. _

He quietly chanted a Four Points spell.

He held his palm flat and his wand spun about crazily upon it before settling and pointing north . . .but then it reversed and pointed south.

Harry frowned. What was happening? How could Katie be both north and south? Either the spell was confused or there were two Katies. Or he hadn't cast it right. But he was almost positive he had done so.

He recast the spell, with the same result.

"Bloody hell!" he exploded.

This truly was a Land of Impossibilities.

He rubbed his temples. There had to be something he was missing here. The sphinx's words came back to him. _A wizard's greatest power besides magic is his imagination. . . .his imagination . . .imagination . . ._

That must mean he had to use imagination to help him in his quest.

Another flash of memory assaulted him. The dream he had had of the temple, where he had solved the riddle, that had been using his imagination, or at least his subconscious mind, in a way he had never thought of before.

_Sometimes the mind is more powerful than even you know._

Smidgen's words echoed down to him.

And the greatest tool of his mind was his imagination.

It all clicked then.

He was in the Land of Impossibilities, a land he was pretty sure existed only in the sphinx's mind, brought forth by her own magic to test him and the others.

And in order to win he had to pit his own mind against hers.

He recalled the riddle he had solved, that line that kept coming back to him about imagination ruling all.

_In the impossible land, imagination is king._

As a child he had learned to use his imagination to its fullest when he was stuck for hours and days inside his cupboard. In his mind he had gone everywhere and done everything, he had been an astronaut, a deep sea diver, a pilot, a superhero. He had visited foreign lands and had given himself the illusion of a family who loved him to stave off the loneliness.

Back then his imagination had been his salvation, his escape, the thing that had kept him sane locked away in the dark and cold.

And it could be so again.

_I understand now. _He looked around again at the forest. Then he shut his eyes and imagined it had melted away, and he stood before Katie and was hugging her. She was in his arms, nestled close, and he could smell her perfume, feel her arms wrapped about him, her hair against his cheek . . .

He opened his eyes.

To his disappointment, he did not see her, but the forest had thinned, and ahead of him was a dark plain that smoked and burned. Beyond that was a huge walled tower. He could feel in his bones that she was there, within.

So he had to get across this lava field.

He coughed, for the fumes from it were worse than the dungbomb. But then he imagined a wind blowing the smell away.

A small fresh burst of air stirred the cracked land and blew the stench aside.

Harry chewed his lip. His imagination had managed that small task, but not the bigger one he had thought of before. Clearly he was not strong enough to just banish Nephthys' constructs. _So be it. As Dad always says, take it one step at a time._

He checked his watch. He had an hour and ten minutes left. He needed to start coming up with solutions, quick.

What was the best way to cross a barren hot ground probably filled with traps and sinkholes or something? He pondered.

He snapped his fingers. Fly, of course.

He concentrated, and gasped as wings sprouted from his shoulders, but they grew large enough to enable him to fly like Hawkman in that comic that Dudley had always read about. He didn't want to risk summoning a broom, since he had seen his magic fail once before and the broom was enchanted similarly to the wand. He wondered then why his cloak had worked, then he shrugged. Perhaps the cloak had been a one time thing.

He spread his snowy wings and jumped into the air.

He nearly landed flat on his face.

_Okay, Harry. Back up. You're doing something wrong. Maybe it's not enough to imagine yourself with wings. Maybe you need to imagine yourself flying too._

He shut his eyes and pictured himself flying through the air, as easily as any hawk or bird ever hatched. _I can fly. I can fly. _

He poured all of his will into the thought and then he jumped into the air.

Instantly his wings caught an updraft and he soared into the sky.

He opened his eyes and grinned.

_I did it! Am I good, or what?_

Suddenly he started to wobble alarmingly.

_Ahh! No . . .no don't fall! Focus!_

He quickly called back the image of himself soaring, then began to fly across the field.

He was immediately glad he did, for the black rock suddenly heaved and formed small volcanos that spat orange lava at him, which he barely dodged with a quick flick of his wings.

_Ouch! Singed my wings, blast it! This is like being trapped in one of Dudley's video games. Gotta use my head._

Geysers of superheated steam exploded next, making him stall and almost tumble out of the sky.

Quickly he imagined a supercool shield of air in front of him to protect himself from the stifling heat.

As soon as he could breathe again he flew higher, above the geysers and volcanoes.

No sooner had he done that, however, than the sky became dark with storm clouds and lightning slammed down at him.

He screamed and rolled, avoiding the lightning by mere inches.

Bloody hell, but Nephthys wasn't pulling her punches here!

He gritted his teeth and continued to fly while rain pelted him. His wings soon became waterlogged.

He imagined the clouds breaking up and the sun coming out.

His wings dried.

Then the sphinx blasted him with a sandstorm out of nowhere.

Suddenly he was tumbling over and over like a dustmote, unable to see or navigate.

He nearly panicked.

But some instinct made him stop and think. He was being buffeted by tremendous winds, like he had read about in _the Arabian Nights_. This was Nephthys' territory, she was born of the desert. What could he come up with that could defeat a sandstorm?

A flying carpet? A magic lamp?

He bit his lip as the sand tore the feathers off his wings and sent him careening across the sky.

_Think! Hurry! If you crash now you won't survive at this speed!_

He closed his eyes.

An instant later he was floating serenely in the vortex of the sandstorm.

He had become a genie, who had mastery of all elements.

With a lazy flick of a finger, he banished the sandstorm.

_Ha! Take that, my lady!_

Harry-the-genie soared past the last of the black lava field and down towards the grey tower.

He landed upon the ground and felt a wrenching sense of disorientation.

He rubbed his eyes and found that he had become a teenage boy once more.

Shaking his head to clear it, he glanced again at his watch. He had less than an hour to get to Katie now. Forty minutes.

He examined the tower. There were no windows or doors, and he didn't think he wanted to waste time imagining any. Time was of the essence.

_Wish I could walk through walls, like Nearly Headless Nick._

He laughed.

_Okay, time to become a ghost._

He felt hot and cold and then he looked down at himself and saw he had become transparent. He gave a yip of delight and dove headfirst through the tower wall.

Only to emerge in yet another type of maze. He fought to keep from howling.

_Keep it together, Snape. Don't go ballistic. That's what she wants. So there's a maze. You're a ghost, you can float through it._

But where was Katie? Logic told him she would be at the center of the maze, or even the end of it. But which way was he to go?

He closed his eyes and concentrated upon her.

Several minutes later he heard a gigantic _ka-thump, ka-thump_ as of a heart beating.

That was her heart beating, he was positive. He just had to follow it.

He began to soar through the walls, following the echoing sound.

Of course, that was when Nephthys threw a screw into his careful plan.

A dreadful howling rose into the air and the tower shook.

Harry, even incorporeal, was flung violently through the air.

By the time he regained his equilibrium, hovering in the air, the huge crocodile-headed thing had appeared, snapping those huge jaws, an unholy light gleaming in its eyes. It was wearing a white linen sheath dress and a scarab collar and it had the body of an Egyptian woman, but the shoulders of a lioness and the lower half was a hippo's legs. It looked vaguely familiar to Harry, he recalled he had seen this image before, but at the moment it eluded him.

She spotted Harry almost immediately, and let out a cry of delight.

_"Ahhh! An unprotected soul for me to devour!"_ she bellowed, her voice strangely hollow and filled with hunger and a need to destroy. _"Come, little soul, give yourself to me. I hunger!"_

She sprang at him and one of her hands, which bore claws and one of them caught him a glancing blow on the leg.

There was a searing pain and he cried out. That had hurt! But wasn't a ghost supposed to be immune to physical harm? He had expected her claw to go right through him.

She threw back her head and laughed mockingly. _"Foolish one, I am the Devourer, and all souls that have wandered astray or have ventured into the Realm of the Dead without being prepared belong to me."_

Harry turned and fled, trying to ignore the burning pain in his leg. He flew as quickly as he dared, still orienting on Katie's heart, and behind him the crocodile thing sprang after, screeching in fury.

He knew then that he had no choice but to keep one step ahead of it, for if it grasped him in its claws he had a feeling he would die . . .or whatever happened in this odd realm. He tried to imagine himself somewhere safe, but his concentration was shattered by the pain in his leg and the horrid thing's screaming.

He poured all of his concentration into staying ahead of the thing and plowed through the walls of the maze at some insane speed that he had never thought he could handle.

Even so, the crocodile thing was still on his arse. Harry didn't know how it could move so damn _fast_!

The heartbeat was growing louder and Harry threw himself a wall and came upon . . .a familiar temple. It was the temple of his dreams.

Behind him, the Devourer swiped at him, and he jerked away by a hairsbreadth, tumbling through the temple wall to land upon the floor with an undignified thump.

When he looked up he saw three figures dressed in the style of the pharaohs.

One was a jackal-headed being, he wore the traditional white robe and kilt, and carried a staff in his hand which he banged down upon the floor three times. "Who comes before me to be judged?" he asked, his voice thundering in the temple.

Harry stood up, shivering. There was a majesty and power in that tone that made him feel insignificant and small. He felt as if he should get down upon his knees before this radiant dark being. He stared into the dark god's eyes and suddenly he remembered what he had forgotten.

"Y-you're Anubis! Egyptian god of the Dead!"

"Not quite, little magus. I am the God of Embalming, who guards the portal to the Realm of the Afterlife. The Lord of the Dead is Osiris."

There came a loud shriek of fury and the sound of iron claws scrabbling at the entrance to the temple. _"Give me it, brother! I am owed! Give me the soul!"_

Anubis sighed. "And that ill-mannered annoyance outside that hungers for your essence is Ammit, the Devourer of Souls. She shall be allowed her due if your heart is not pure, young magus."

He pointed to a set of huge scales done in gold and jewels. Atop the scales was a gorgeous woman dressed in a feathered red robe and with a feathered headdress of many colors. She knelt there, serene and yet there was a hardness to her face that implied she was not the delicate thing she seemed. In her eyes was an ageless wisdom.

"Welcome, wandering one. I am Ma'at, the goddess of Truth and Justice. Have you come to weigh your heart against my feather?"

"I . . .I don't understand. I . . .I'm here to find my girlfriend, Katie. She's here somewhere. I can feel her heart."

"Indeed," said the third god, the ibis-headed Thoth, whom Harry had met before in his dream, holding his scroll and his pen. "But in order to find her you must prove yourself worthy, young magus."

"How? I fought my way past all of the things in this land, isn't that enough?" Harry asked, irritated.

Thoth looked amused. "That shows you have courage and perseverance and a good imagination. But if you are truly devoted to her who you love best, you shall endure one last test. Climb up on the scale and allow Ma'at to weigh your heart. If you are true and unselfish in your love, you shall rise above the feather. But if you are not, you shall sink to the ground and Ammit shall be allowed to devour you, for all unworthy souls belong to her. Will you submit to this last test?"

Harry looked at the scales. On one side was a gleaming feather that sparkled with all the colors of the rainbow. The feather of Ma'at.

He bit his lip. He sensed that this was the final test.

A tremendous blow hit the door of the temple and it began to buckle.

A clawed hand forced its way through.

Harry knew if Ammit came through the door he was finished.

"All right. I'll do it."

"Step upon the scale," Anubis instructed. He knelt and held the scales steady for Harry to step on it.

Harry found that even though he was a ghost, he could still feel the scale pan beneath his feet. He stood straight and tall, wondering how on earth they could measure the depth of the human heart for another.

He felt a tingle run through him.

Then slowly, he saw the feather start to rise.

A moment later it began to sink.

Very slowly, he found himself lifted higher than the feather, until he hovered two feet above the opposite end of the scale with the glittering feather.

Ma'at spoke. "You have been weighed and measured, young magus, and you are light-hearted with love for she who sleeps beyond. Yours is a true and lasting love, let all present hear my judgment and record it!"

There came a sound like a gong ringing throughout the temple.

At the same time, Ammit crashed through the wall and launched herself at Harry.

But she passed right through him and landed smack upon the floor.

"No-o-o!" she wailed, for she was unable to harm a pure soul that had been judged by Ma'at.

"Peace, she-beast," Anubis scolded. "This one is not for you." He pointed to a small alcove. "There is she whom you seek, Child of Destiny."

Harry looked where the god pointed and saw Katie lying upon a stone sarcophagus, fast asleep.

He sprang off the scales and raced over to her. "Katie!" he called, bending down and lifting her into his arms.

As soon as he had done so, time stopped and Nephtyhys' voice echoed in his ears.

"Well played, Harry Snape! You were a most worthy opponent! You completed my task with five minutes to spare!"

The temple and the Egyptian gods faded and Harry found himself back before the sphinx in the arena, the shouts of the students echoing in his ears.

Katie stirred in his arms and opened her eyes.

"Harry? Where . . .where am I?"

"Back where you belong. With me."

"I had the strangest dream . . ." she began.

He smiled down at her. "Was I in it?"

"Yes," she answered, then she threw her arms about him and kissed him, not caring that everyone in the school saw.

Harry couldn't have imagined a better moment.

Until he kissed her back.

Above in the stands, Draco and the supportive Slytherins were all hooting and hollering at the two kissing, as were the Gryffindors and some Ravenclaws as well. Smidgen was doing a victory flight about their heads and Cafall was barking and straining at the leash in Sarai's hand.

"Calm, you silly pup!" the warrior ordered, stroking the silky head. "You'll see your master soon enough. Sit!"

Cafall sat, tail wagging, his eyes fixed upon Harry.

In the judges' box, Severus released the breath he had been holding and caught the edge of the rail to steady himself. As far as he could tell, Harry seemed uninjured, and he was so relieved over that he didn't even mind his son's total lack of decorum and his very obvious Public Display of Affection. He did not know what had occurred inside that golden mist, but it appeared that Harry had passed the sphinx's test.

The other three suddenly appeared, one after the other, and all of them looked relived and were holding a person in their arms or next to them. Cedric had Cho Chang in his embrace, Fleur was hugging a little girl that looked like her, and Krum was cradling a trembling Damascus Rosen in his arms. He looked much the worse for wear, cut and bleeding about the face and shoulders, but he still wore his supercilious smile.

Severus and the other judges rose to their feet to applaud the champions' completion of the second task, and never had the Potions Master felt prouder of his and Lily's child than at that moment.

**Sorry for not updating sooner, but I was working on my new Christmas fic, Away in A Manger, which is still not finished. Hopefully I'll finish it soon.**

**Thanks to all who gave me guesses for the riddle and congratulations to anyone who guessed imagination! For those of you who guessed love, you were close, but the sphinx is an intellectual sort and would favor the mind above the heart. Hence why imagination was the correct answer. **

**The scene between Harry and the Egyptian gods is taken from Egyptian mythology, the Egyptians believed a soul had to pass a test before being allowed into the Realm of the Dead, and one's heart was judged and weighed by Ma'at to see if it was good and light as a feather. If the heart was weighed down by evil deeds it was heavy hearted and given to Ammit the Destroyer to devour and the soul never made it to heaven, but was destroyed forever. You can learn more about Egyptian customs and gods by looking on Wikipedia. **

**Hope you enjoyed this and will forgive me for not updating sooner, my muse wasn't cooperating!**

**Let me know if this was worth the wait, please!**


	25. Warnings

Cedric sho

**25**

**Warnings**

Harry felt the adulation of the crowd wash over him. It was a heady feeling and enabled him to stave off the weariness that suddenly swept over him. He blinked and turned to hug his beloved, only to find she had vanished from his arms. Glancing about frantically, he saw that the others too no longer had their people. _Katie! Where are you?_ He opened his mouth to call for her and then he heard the soft tones of Nephthys in his mind.

_Fear not, little fae champion. Your beloved is perfectly safe, with her friends, where she belongs. Look up, and you shall see._He could see Draco, Katie, and Hermione standing at the railing of their respective House seats cheering and clapping. For one moment he missed Ron in the crowd, but then caught sight of him as well, standing next to some witches from Beauxbatons, waving a scarf and cheering madly.

_Oh. But how . . .?_

_In the Impossible Land, I rule. Your beloved was never truly there in body, anymore than you were. Only spirit. Once you completed your task, I sent you both back to here, where your bodies awaited you. She will remember little of it, as she was mostly asleep, unlike you, who walked a waking dream. The same is true of the others._

Harry exhaled, relieved.

His eyes swept over his fellow competitors, and focused on the judges on their podium and he saw Severus applauding and giving him a smile. He smiled back, feeling a surge of joy go through him, for he knew his father was proud of him. Sarai was standing near Severus as well and she too gave him a look of approval, and then he felt as if he were on top of the world, for the two adults he most admired and wished to please were proud of him.

Dumbledore too, gave him a look of approval and so did Bagman and he received a nod from Crouch and a restrained smile from Madame Maxime. Karkaroff gave him a sneer and a suspicious look. Hagrid was bellowing, "Hooray for Harry and Cedric!" and the sound of his hands clapping sounded like muted thunder.

The sphinx watched the four champions through patiently lidded eyes, until the adulation of the crowd died down. Then she turned to the judges and said, "I rank the challengers thus: fourth place is tied—Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour, who both took twenty minutes to complete my mind challenge. Second place goes to Cedric Diggory who took fifteen minutes. First place goes to Harry Snape, who took ten minutes. All did well, and stand as examples to other wizards of how to use intelligence and wit to solve riddles and problems. I salute you, champions!" Then she roared, low and loud, and the air quivered with her primeval sound.

The judges turned to confer with one another, probably about combining the marks, and Harry turned to Cedric, trying to keep his mind off worrying about his marks, and said, "Hey, Diggory. Mind telling me who you had to rescue when you were in the Land of Impossibilities?"

Cedric shook his head. "I had to rescue Cho, my girlfriend."

"And I had to rescue Gabrielle, my leetle sister," Fleur replied.

"What about you, Krum?" asked Cedric.

"First you, Snape," Krum said coldly. "Who did you rescue? Your gay mate Weasley?"

"No. My girlfriend, Katie." Harry replied. "Where did you ever get the idea that Ron is gay?"

"Because he's always up your arse, that's why," Krum snorted and then brayed with laughter.

"Just ignore him." Cedric advised.

"I am," Harry said through gritted teeth, though he detested bigoted idiots like Krum. "Who did you have to rescue, Krum? Yourself?"

"Ha ha. Very funny. For your information, Snape, I had to save Damascus, the most beautiful and cultured girl in the world." Krum declared.

Harry nearly opened his mouth to say that he hadn't found Damascus very cultured at all, but he shut it when Cedric shook his head. Krum was trying to bait him again. He wrestled his temper into submission and focused back on the judges who were handing out marks.

He managed to come in first, ahead of Cedric by a mere five points. Krum was last behind Fleur by two points. He glared at the French girl, who sniffed and turned from him as if he radiated a bad odor.

Then the sphinx spoke, her voice a low rumble. "I thank you, wizards, for allowing me to participate in this challenge. May Isis watch over you. Farewell!" She sprang up into the air and vanished in a cloud of golden sparkles.

Crouch whirled upon Bagman angrily. "Ludo, I thought you said she was bound. I was hoping to get some of that Pharoah gold out of her they say sphinxes possess."

"I . . .I never said she was bound, just that we had an agreement . . .of sorts," stuttered Bagman, looking sheepish.

Sarai shook her head in disgust and whispered in Severus' ear, "Fools! Do they not know better than to try and bind a sphinx against her will? Why is it that mortals always seek to dominate and control other creatures? Why cannot they respect them and in turn receive respect?"

"What, the way you of the Folk do, lady?" Crouch demanded, for he was close enough to hear her impassioned last question. "You High Court fae have Low Court to serve you, or so I have heard."

Sarai turned to him. "That is true, but they are under a contract for a period of years, and while in service are also under the Queen's protection. Any who harm one of her servants will pay the ultimate penalty, and this includes members of her court and family. To serve Titania is considered an honor, and we make none slaves, as you do to your house elves."

Crouch flushed. "Our house elves serve us willingly."

"Do not lie to me, mortal," snapped the warrior. "I have seen with my own eyes how wizards come and steal away house elf clans from Faerie, paying much gold for them to the traders of the Unseelie Court. And once sold they become bound to a family for their lives and the lives of generations unborn, and you treat them cruelly. You strike no bargain, renew no contract. Where then is the honor in making another creature a slave?"

"They were born to serve," argued Crouch. "I freed mine and she was miserable."

"How did you free her, sir? Did you give her references and a new family to go to? Or did you just throw her into the street like a stray dog? There is a difference, wizard. To serve with dignity is one thing. But to serve out of fear is quite another. And in order to gain the former you must first respect those who serve you."

Crouch snorted. "May as well respect the dirt beneath my boots."

"Arrogance and pride shall be your downfall, wizard. Like so many before you."

Crouch drew himself up. "Are you threatening me, woman?"

Sarai smiled tightly. "I do not threaten, I promise. Keep that wand up your sleeve, wizard. Because if you draw it on me, you are asking to lose it . . .along with the hand that wields it. Fair warning, Mr. Crouch."

Her eyes were hard as emeralds and in them was a warning that Crouch would have been a fool to ignore.

He backed away from her. "I cannot believe you would wed such a termagant, Snape."

Severus eyed him coldly. "Meek women are not to my taste, Crouch. Be careful, Bartemius. Make an enemy of my fiancée and you make an enemy of me. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go and congratulate my son." He gave the other wizard a barely civil nod and then swept off the dais, his black cloak billowing, to tell Harry that he was proud of him.

Sarai followed, ignoring the thinly veiled sneer of contempt the other wizard threw at her. Crouch reminded her of a poorly trained terrier, one that yapped at people and nipped for no reason save bad temperament. She too congratulated her soon to be stepson, and received a hug in return.

"Sarai!" Harry exclaimed. "You're still here!"

"Yes, but not for much longer," she told him. "I leave tomorrow evening. But I am glad I was here to share in your achievement. You do the Prince-Valink line proud, youngling. It is rare for one as young as you to best a sphinx like Nephthys."

_*I agree, Harry,*_ sent Smidgen, appearing in the air before him, her butterfly wings waving gently. _*Sphinxes are the best riddlers in the Realms. And their minds are strong in magic.*_

She perched upon his shoulder for a moment, but then flew off when the rest of his friends and his brother came over to congratulate him as well.

* * * * * *

Of course, the Gryffindors used Harry's success to declare another party in the common room that evening. Harry was tired and would have preferred to spend the evening with Katie stargazing or sitting by the shore of the Black Lake talking, but his Housemates refused to let him slip away for another two hours. Unlike Hermione, who managed to escape to the library to do some studying for Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Astronomy all in one evening.

It was there that Draco found her, her head bent over her texts, scribbling away industriously in her notebook. He glided up behind her and put his hands over her eyes, whispering in her ear in a deeper voice than his normal one, "Guess who?"

She caught his wrists and said, "Hagrid, is that you?"

Draco choked. "_Hagrid_! Merlin's Eyes, girl, please tell me I haven't put on _that_ much weight! I just might have to take an appetite suppressant."

Hermione giggled. "Only kidding, Dragon. What are you doing down here?"

"Looking for you." He removed his hands from her face and leaned over and kissed her cheek. Then he came around the chair and perched a hip on the corner of the table. "You work too hard, Mione. Always studying."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "If I don't study, I'll get behind in my classes, Draco. You know that."

He put a finger under her chin. "Then maybe you ought to not take so many at one time. There's no law that says you have to memorize every book in the library before you finish school."

"I thought you liked having a smart girlfriend, Malfoy."

He sighed. He knew she was irritated with him when she started calling him by his last name. "I love having a smart girlfriend. But . . .you need to take a break once in awhile, Hermione. You're pushing yourself harder than a seventh year NEWT student. How many classes do you have this year? Eight, nine, ten?"

"Seven core, plus three electives. It's not too much, Draco. I can handle it," she snapped, nettled.

"Hey. All I'm saying is that every so often you should let yourself relax. I hardly ever see you anymore this past month, except in class and at the Dueling Club. I miss you, bookworm."

She looked down guiltily at her ink-smudged fingers. "I know. But there's so much homework this year and all of my professors expect so much more from me, your father included. I don't want to slip up. I want to maintain my high marks. I'm sorry, Draco. I don't mean to . . .neglect you."

He brushed her hair back from her forehead. "I understand. Just be careful you don't overtax that genius head of yours, okay?" He kissed her again. "Take a night off. It won't kill you."

"Not tonight, Draco. I have a test in Astronomy and another in Arithmancy. Plus a three foot homework assignment in Ancient Runes."

He looked disappointed. "All right. Want me to help you study?"

"No," she said quickly, then regretted it when she saw the hurt look on his face. "I just . . .need some time by myself. And if you're here you'll just distract me."

"Fine then," he said abruptly, and stood up.

"Draco, wait!" she called after his retreating back. "I'll spend some time with you after class tomorrow, okay?"

"Fine," was all he said, his voice tight.

He strode from the library, his robes rustling, leaving Hermione alone as she had wished.

But now she felt guilty and found that she could barely concentrate on her work.

* * * * * *

Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's office, Sarai and Severus were questioning Dumbledore as to why he had no idea what sort of challenges the two Ministry officials were going to pose to the champions. Sarai, in particular, was angry that Harry had had to face a lamia for his first task. "Lamias are demonkind, Headmaster! Among the most dangerous creatures in this realm or my own! How could you permit a mere apprentice to fight one?"

"Lady Sarai, I was not in charge of making the challenges. That task belonged to my Ministry colleagues, Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch. I had no say in how the challenges were presented."

"No say? You wield great influence with them, or so Severus tells me. Why when you saw what Harry would be facing, did you not demand another creature be presented? Surely you know what a lamia is capable of? They live to kill and eat _children_! A Seelie warrior would have been hard pressed to deal with such an opponent, let alone a child."

"But Harry _did_ deal with it, lady." Dumbledore reminded her.

"It could have gone either way, from what Severus told me. You ought to have more care for your students, Headmaster. If my betrothed had not banished it, the lamia could have created a slaughterhouse in this school."

"I am well aware of that, my lady warrior," Dumbledore said soothingly.

"I would hope then, that it would not happen again. Putting children in danger for the sake of a contest is not something that my people would ever do."

"I had no choice. Once Harry's name was in the Goblet . . ."

"The Cup's magic binds, but there are ways around it. Ways that you wizards do not know because the object you call the Goblet of Fire is actually our sacred Cup of Wonders."

Dumbledore gaped at her. "What do you mean? The Goblet has always belonged to us."

"No. That is what you believe, but that belief is false. The Cup was stolen from us long ago by Galahad from the Cup Maidens. Galahad disdained his fae blood and believed we were a cursed people and so he justified his theft of our sacred object by claiming it was the Holy Grail. It vanished into the mortal realm and came eventually into the hands of you wizards, but it has never belonged to you. It has always been ours, fae magic that you cannot begin to comprehend. In the wrong hands it can do great harm. Or great good. It is much more than a mere goblet to be used in a contest, Albus Dumbledore." Sarai said, her voice ringing with the force of her conviction. "Queen Titania has sent me to tell you this—when you have played your game to the end, we wish you to return the Cup to us. As an act of good faith between our peoples, we ask this."

"The Cup is not mine to give."

"Tell your Minister then, or whoever is in charge, of what the Queen has said. For if you continue to withhold the Cup from us, there will be discord between your people and mine. And that is the last thing you need, a war with the fae when you have trouble enough with your own dark wizards."

"Is that a threat, Lady Valinek?"

"It is a warning, Headmaster, from the Queen of Faerie herself. I would suggest you not disregard it. Titania will not be so forgiving next time. If your Minister is wise, he will give us back the Cup and thus avoid bloodshed. My people take a dim view of thieves."

Dumbledore paled. The might of the Seelie Court was nothing to trifle with. "I shall tell him so, Lady Sarai."

"Good. Think about what your people will suffer, and choose wisely if he does not." She gazed right at him, her eyes old with centuries of knowledge.

Dumbledore nodded once. "I understand." Then he pushed the dish of lemon drops over to her. "Lemon drop?"

She slanted him a wry glance. "What's in them?"

His eyes widened. "Nothing! I assure you, they are not enchanted."

She took one, sniffed it, muttered something in the fae tongue, then satisfied, ate it. "Think on what I have said, Headmaster. Not just about the Cup, but about Harry as well. I look upon him as a son and if his life is put at risk again for your stupid contest . . .I shall be most displeased." She fingered her sword meaningfully.

"Lady Sarai, surely you would not threaten an elderly man . . ."

She laughed. "You may be elderly, Dumbledore, but you are not the mild-mannered grandfather you wish to be seen as. Do not attempt to fool me, I know a manipulator when I see one. I grew up among the masters of the art. But though we may be hard, we fae cherish our children. Something that many of you mortals do not. And this was not the first time Harry was put in danger. So have a care, old one. For if any harm comes to Harry, I shall take payment for it out of your hide."

"You'll have to stand in line," Severus interjected.

"Severus, please!" Dumbledore held up his hands. "I shall speak with Bartemius and Ludo and make sure this last task is not . . .outlandishly hard. I have no wish for Harry to get hurt."

"Good. Then we are agreed," Sarai said simply. "I shall take my leave of you now, if I may." She gave the Headmaster a brief bow, and then left the office.

Dumbledore looked at Severus. "You have quite a lady there, my boy. I would not like to cross her. She would make a dangerous opponent."

"She would indeed. But I would have her no other way. Good evening, Albus." Then he too left the Headmaster to ponder the warnings he had been given, returning to his quarters to have a light supper with his beloved and engage in other more private pursuits before she had to leave tomorrow evening.

* * * * * *

Draco meandered along the shores of the lake, too angry and agitated to go back to the Slytherin common room and study or hang out with Crabbe and Goyle. There were times he really thought Hermione was obsessed with studying. She took more classes than any other witch her age, and probably more than any other witch in the school. While he admired her for her brains and dedication, he also feared that she would burn herself out from too much studying. He had meant to tell her that, only she had made him angry and he had forgotten it.

She was only fourteen, for Merlin's sake! Shouldn't she be enjoying her youth and not spending all of her free time poring over books and scrolls? _I love her dearly, I really do, but sometimes she just . . .aggravates me to hell._

He continued walking, taking great gulps of the fresh air and admiring the moon as it rose full and round to light the night sky. He would have loved to be walking out here with his arm about Hermione, but instead he was alone and she was studying some dry chapter of Ancient Runes.

As he rounded the bend in the trail, he heard voices speaking softly, and slowed. But he could not help but see two figures in the moonlight, embracing. With a start he recognized Ravenclaw Luna Lovegood, mystical otherworldly Luna, who was forever being teased for seeing things that no one else could. She was being held by a tall black clad man with midnight hair festooned with shells and seaweed.

The kelpie, Duncan Wavestrider.

Who apparently did not think Luna was crazy, since he was kissing her ardently.

Draco turned away, blushing. He quickly hurried back up the path, red-faced. Yet a part of him whispered, _Even Loony Lovegood's found someone now. One of the fae and yet . . .they're happy together. _He wondered bitterly if this thing he felt for Hermione was going to last. Or had his mother been right when she told him that a match between a pureblood and anyone else was doomed to failure?

He shook his head. No, he couldn't trust Narcissa, she had always been prejudiced towards anyone not a pureblood. Hermione was just . . .an overachiever. Even more so than he was. It didn't mean that she was going to choose her studies over a relationship with him.

He slipped back into the castle and headed for the dungeons. A slight noise made him look up towards the top of the staircase where he saw his brother and Katie, also locking lips.

_Bloody hell, what is with everyone tonight?_ Draco thought angrily. He spun around and took the stairs down to the dungeon two at a time, frustrated and upset. It looked like everyone but him was having a wonderful time tonight.

He entered the portrait hole and ignored his mates' attempts to interest him in cards or chess or a debate on what was the better Defense counter to the Cruciatus Curse. "I'm tired. Going to bed," he said shortly, then proceeded to do so.

But though he tried, he remained awake, thinking of a certain bushy-haired witch who lately seemed to prefer her studies to spending time with her Slytherin boyfriend. He groaned and turned on his stomach, burying his face in his pillow and doing meditation exercises until he fell asleep.

But even there his mind tormented him, as he dreamt of chasing Hermione down a corridor and just as he put out a hand to draw her close, a mountain of books fell upon him and buried him.

**Hope you all enjoyed this one. I apologize for the long wait between updates, but I wanted to finish my holiday fic Away in A Manger first, and now it is completed and I can work on this one and my other ones. Thanks for your patience and I will try and update sooner this time. **


	26. The Bookworm's Obsession

**The Bookworm's Obsession**

**chapter dedicated to Janie Lucy, who asked me for it, and was very patient while I wrote it.**

Hermione hurried through her usual breakfast of juice, toast, a poached egg, a banana, and two strips of bacon. She, unlike many of her classmates, tried to eat balanced meals when she could. But today she did not linger over her food, eating swiftly, for she wished to speak to Sarai about her house elf campaign before the warrior departed Hogwarts to return to her monarch. Hermione greatly admired the half-fae warrior for having the courage to stand up for her beliefs and to marry the man she loved despite the fact that they came from two different worlds. Much like she and Draco did. She sighed as she pushed back her chair, ignoring the questioning looks of her tablemates. She knew she had been neglecting Draco lately, but she hoped he could understand why. Her schoolwork had to come first. She had to make top grades in order to prove to her parents and her peers that she truly did belong at Hogwarts. She knew that many purebloods in all the Houses sneered at the Headmaster's policy of giving Muggleborns equal status, and because of that she knew she couldn't afford to be "mediocre". She had to outperform all of them to prove herself, and she also loved a challenge, and so many classes were not challenging enough for her.

But she pushed all of that to the back of her mind and hurried up to the staff table, waiting quietly until Professor Snape looked up from his morning coffee and said, "Miss Granger, is there a problem?"

"No, Professor Snape. I was just wondering if I could speak to Lady Sarai for a few minutes?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You hardly need to ask my permission. Be my guest."

Sarai set down her spoon, she was finished with her cinnamon porridge, and rose gracefully to her feet. Hermione had never seen the woman look anything less than graceful, and it made her feel awkward sometimes. "How may I help you, Hermione?"

"Uh, could we speak in private? Like over there near the fireplace?" she pointed to a spot next to the hearth behind the staff table.

"Certainly, child," Sarai agreed and followed the witch. She was dressed in her customary forest green tunic and leggings, her sword resting easily on her hip, for outside the Seelie Court, a warrior never went unarmed, though the sword was only her most visible weapon. She was also a spellcaster of no small talent as were all of Titania's private guard, and also a _kin-sa-dor_ master as well. "Now, young one, what would you have of me?"

Hermione shifted slightly, a bit in awe of getting the warrior's attention, but now that she had it, she did not want to waste her chance. "Draco and Harry told me a little about the Seelie Court. They said that you don't make slaves of house elves."

"That is so. Low Court and High, we co-exist in peace, though one may serve the other." Sarai replied. "Those you term house elves, we call brownies, because they tend to prefer brown clothing and have shades of brown skin normally."

"They do? Dobby, a friend of mine, doesn't."

"Ask him what skin color he was born with," Sarai told her. "Most wizards who trade in house elves change the skin color of the elf to compliment themselves."

Hermione looked sickened. "But that's terrible!"

"Yes. As terrible as binding a fae creature to them for their lifespan and their childrens'." The Guard Captain said darkly.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, my lady. I want to know how to end it," Hermione began passionately, her brown eyes glowing. "I think it's dreadful and we ought to do away with it. Only when I've tried to bring up the subjects to other wizards and witches, even in Gryffindor, even with my friends, they all think I'm cracked. They tell me that the elves _like_ serving wizards and are happy to be bound to a family or even here at the school. They say that even if they were given their freedom, they wouldn't know what to do with it."

Sarai frowned. "Such are the rational of those who have become accustomed to holding another in bondage. Such an attitude is nothing new, not when you mortals have enslaved your own kind for centuries and only recently have abolished that practice. That was where the Unseelie, my Dark cousins, learned the practice and they employ it to this day." The warrior's voice was harsh with disgust. "Among my people, slavery is seen as the ultimate degradation, a loss of freedom of both body and spirit that withers a person's self-esteem away. The Seelie Court practices not such things."

"Yet you have servants there, Draco said so."

"Yes, but they are bound to serve by their own will, spoken oaths of loyalty to Queen Titania, or are under contract for a period of years. Once their contract is up they are given the choice to continue serving the Queen and her court, or leave and continue their lives as they wish. A contract is binding only for an individual, never for an entire family, and while that one is under contract, one is also under the monarch's protection, and sacred. To harm a servant of Titania is tantamount to harming the Queen Herself, and the punishment is swift and harsh. If one gives one's life in her service, that one is counted a hero and their name is sung across the land, never to be forgotten. Even if one is a lowly sprite or butterfly fairy, we do them the honor, for so did they honor their vows. Some must rule and some must serve, but the choice to serve is offered freely."

"And you don't . . .abuse your servants?"

"No, child. We do not whip them or make sport of them like the Unseelie do. Even as children, we of noble birth are taught to respect our servants, and for many our tutors and nurses raise us because our parents must be elsewhere, and so we love them as we would our kin. I have often heard Prince Balin, Titania's youngest son, refer to his dryad nurse Acornia as Mother, for she raised him until he was five, and Titania was able to spend more time with him. He listens to her counsel even now that he is of age, and grown far beyond the nursery."

"I wish more wizards felt that way about their house elves." Hermione said with a sigh.

"It is an old crime, this slavery," sighed her elder. "But you must understand, child, that it did not occur overnight. It has been going on for centuries in one way and another. So you must not expect miracles to happen. Your wizard friends have grown up with the idea that it is right, even proper, to have house elf slaves. Though you and I know it is wrong, they accept it as a way of life. They were taught that their house elves enjoy serving them, and maybe some do, though I doubt that was always the case. After so many centuries, the house elves have become accustomed to their bondage, as they too have grown up with it, and they fear breaking the chains and living a life filled with possibilities. In short, they have lost some of their ability to think for themselves, having lived so long being ordered about."

"I know. Mr. Crouch freed his house elf, Winky, and she's miserable. She keeps begging him to take her back and he keeps refusing. She won't even talk about what happened to make him free her in the first place."

"Sometimes, when a magical bond is severed suddenly, it leaves a scar upon the elf's spirit. I think that is what this Winky is suffering from, that and fear of the unknown. She should accompany me back to my world, where she can be treated by our Healers and learn what it means to be a free brownie, as her people were meant to be."

"You would take her back with you? Oh, that would be wonderful!" Hermione cried, smiling. "But how can I get people to listen to me about abolishing the house elf slavery and just . . .taking them on as contracted servants? I thought about making badges, like this one," she showed Sarai her new S.P.E.W badge. "It stands for Society for Promotion of Elvish Welfare."

The warrior chuckled. "Hmm. You are most dedicated, but first you must have a plan to win over your stubborn fellow witches and wizards. And to do that you must start slowly. Find a few youngsters in your year or older who share the same views as you about the cruelty of house elves. I am sure there are more than you know."

"But they'd be mostly Muggleborns and half-bloods," Hermione said. "I need purebloods as well."

"Those might be harder to find, though I would say your Draco would be one, as would Harry."

"Harry's not a real pureblood. I guess he's more of a half-blood."

"Nevertheless, he is respected among you, so he would be a good one to include in your campaign. Second, you must not think of it as a frontal attack, Hermione. You ought to go about it quietly, for those purebloods who do happen to hold views as you do are not going to broadcast them willingly. They have learned to hide what they believe, probably for fear of parental disapproval or punishment. Suggest that they not need give up their house elf permanently, but simply release them from their original binding and draw up a contract for a specific number of years and make it mutually beneficial to both parties. That may draw more wizards to your cause. Third, you must also have a spokesperson among the elves to present these new ideas and to demonstrate how useful they could be. Perhaps you might consider recruiting that one elf you mentioned . . .Dobby?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Dobby would be a great help."

Sarai smiled. "I wish you luck in your campaign, Hermione. But remember, sometimes changes must come slowly if they are to last. I know it's hard not to become impatient, especially at your age, but better to have a few solid allies behind you, than a hundred wishy-washy ones who may abandon you when the going gets tough. And perhaps you may consider this for your new campaign—Wizards Against the Slavery of House-elves—WASH. Signifying also that you intend to wash the slate clean of past wrongs and begin anew. Your other one was a bit . . .disconcerting and might remind people of vomit."

Hermione thought for a moment. "Yes . . .you've got a point there. I like your slogan much better. Thank you, Sarai."

"You are most welcome, Hermione. I think you have a bright future ahead of you. Perhaps I may see you again next year."

"I'd like that a lot, my lady," Hermione said, grinning.

"And now, I must be going, I have several duties I must attend to back at home and should be leaving here soon. Farewell, young sorceress." Sarai gave her a semi-formal bow, such as an adult uses to a child upon leavetaking among the fae, and then went to follow Severus back to his quarters to gather her things and bid him and the rest of the family goodbye.

_Later that evening:_

Harry tossed a red ball for Cafall to chase across the grass, letting the misthound work off some of his boundless puppy energy. He looked at his brother, whom he had not talked to since Draco had congratulated him after completing the second task of the tournament. "Something's bothering you, I can tell. Want to talk about it? Or did you really come out here to play fetch with Cafall?"

Draco knelt and ruffled the puppy's ears when the misthound came up to him, wagging his plumed tail with the red ball in his mouth. "Good boy," he praised the puppy, and received a lick across the cheek. "Now, go and _get_ it!" he ordered, standing and flinging the ball all the way across the lawn, augmenting his throw with magic so the ball flew several yards, almost down to the Quidditch pitch.

Cafall gave a happy bark and trotted off after it, unconcerned that it had seemingly vanished. Misthounds could track better than the best bloodhound, Cafall knew he would find the ball wherever it had gone.

Harry stared at his brother. "Why'd you use magic? You didn't have to."

"He needs practice tracking things with magic's scent on them," Draco answered, chewing his lower lip. He turned away, his hands stuck in the pockets of his Slytherin robes, paced about five paces, then returned. He was unsure if he wanted to discuss his foundering relationship with Hermione with anyone, but he was afraid if he didn't tell _someone_ he risked losing the girl to her studies. And Harry was the best one—the only one—he trusted to talk about it.

Harry waited calmly, sensing Draco gathering his thoughts.

Draco abruptly broke the gathering silence. "Have you ever wanted to just . . . strangle Hermione?"

Harry coughed. _That_ was not what he'd been expecting at all. "Not lately. Why?"

Draco ground his teeth. "Because she's become . . .obsessed with studying and it's really . . .getting on my nerves."

"Draco, she's _always_ been that way. Don't tell me you just noticed?"

"You don't understand what I mean. Yes, I knew she was a bookworm and brilliant, that's no secret, the whole school knows that. But she was never . . .like this. She used to take a break once in awhile, go out for a walk with me, visit Hogsmeade, hell, even eat ice cream for an hour before going back to her Arithmancy." He shook his head, running his fingers through his blond hair.

"I have noticed she's been more . . .intent lately. We have finals in a few months. And you know Hermione, she has to start studying for them in advance of any normal student. And she's been working on her newest project, Abolish House-elf Slavery too."

"Tell me something I don't know, Harry," Draco snapped irritably. "What I want to know is how to get her nose out of her damn books and make her notice me again. I tried asking her to talk with me that night after your second task and she just . . . totally blew me off. Said she had to study and do homework and then got tetchy when I said she could afford a few hours off. I haven't really seen her in over a month, what with my schedule and hers, and all I wanted was a lousy hour or two and she ignores me!"

Harry gave his brother a sympathetic glance. "Hermione and her books are like me and Quidditch sometimes."

"Ha! I could never see you refuse Katie an evening out even if you had practice and a game the next day. You're not completely delusional."

"Not anymore. But there was a time when I used to brush off Ron when I had a big game."

"That's different. He's your friend . . .not your boyfriend." Draco argued. "Got any ideas about how I should handle her?"

"Well, you could disguise yourself as a rare volume of poetry," Harry suggested mischievously. "She'd put her hands all over you then."

"Prat!" Draco cuffed him across the back of the head.

"Okay, how about walking into the library and stripping off your clothes in front of her? _That'd_ get her attention if anything would." His brother ducked Draco's second smack and danced away.

"Great idea there, little brother! It'd attract her attention and Madam Pince's like a shot. Then how would I explain to Dad the reason I was forever banned from the library and maybe facing expulsion?"

"You . . .uh . . .could say it was an experiment gone wrong?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless, Harry!"

"But at least you're smiling. A little."

"Because you're an utter idiot," his brother groused. "Maybe I could vanish all her books . . .no, then she'd have a breakdown . . .what else . . ."

"Give her a week, and then try talking to her again," Harry suggested seriously. "She'll have gotten most of her homework out of the way and some of her studying. She might even be lonely and want company."

Draco frowned down at his shoes. "All right. I'll try that. But this obsession with her studies is getting to be . . .unhealthy."

"I know. I've tried to tell her to slow down, but she won't listen to me either. Tells me it'd be better if I studied more."

Draco laughed. "You study more now than you ever did before with Dad on your arse."

"Yeah. Only she's too caught up in her own studies to notice." Harry pointed out.

Cafall barked loudly somewhere beyond the treeline.

"Sounds like he's cornered some kind of animal again," Draco said.

"Let's go see what it is." Harry said, walking forward. "I wish this year were over."

"When's the last task you have to complete?" Draco asked, accompanying him.

"Somewhere around the end of June, the 24th, I think." Harry replied. "Bagman was supposed to let us know more details a month or so before the actual test. I guess this one doesn't require us to solve riddles."

"You did brilliantly at that one. I doubt if I could have done as well."

Harry shrugged modestly. "I had help from a certain kelpie," he whispered. "I hope this last task isn't something that requires me to kill a creature or fight one of the other champions or something."

"You mean, like in a duel?"

Harry nodded.

"You shouldn't be afraid of dueling them, Harry. Out of all of them, you're better prepared. You've had Dad and Sarai drilling you in _kin-sa-dor_ and Defense, plus working with the Dueling Club too. You could take all of them, no sweat."

"Probably."

"No probably, Phoenix. I've seen you fight. You almost match me."

"Almost? I kicked your arse last session with Dad."

"I was distracted," Draco argued.

"By Hermione? Right."

"It's the truth." Draco said, nettled. "You wouldn't know what it's like, since you and Katie are like the perfect couple."

Harry exploded into laughter. "Not hardly, Dragon. We've had our share of spats."

"When?"

"Last week. She fought with me because she read some stupid article in _Witch Weekly _that Skeeter woman printed about me being "hopelessly in love with Ginny Weasley." Utter rubbish!"

Draco gaped. "Holy Merlin! You and Weasley's sister? That's just . . .absurd!"

"I know."

"It was made up." Draco said instantly.

"That's what I told her, but she was still angry with me. Said rumors get started from a grain of truth so sometime I must have acted like I had feelings for Ginny."

"_What_? Bloody hell, she's your best mate's _little sister_! I'd cut Goyle's balls off if he ever considered going out with _my_ little sister, if we had one."

"I know. Ron would have hexed me to the moon. Not that I ever thought of Ginny that way. She's always been like my sister. But she's also had a bit of a crush on me. And with the article . . .Katie just reacted the wrong way . . ."

"Don't know how I missed that. Must have been asleep."

"Or involved in your own romantic problems," Harry said.

"You back together again?"

"Yeah. Once she went away and thought about it, she realized it was all a pack of lies. Spent the next day apologizing to me and I forgave her and then we went to Madam Puddifoot's and talked . . ."

"That's all?"

"Yeah. Talk to her, Draco. Girls like it when you have discussions about stuff. _Meaningful_ discussions, without snogging, I mean."

"I know what you mean." They had walked across the lawn, following the misthound's excited barking. "All right. I'll try it. What have I got to lose?"

They saw the misthound standing against a tree, baying at something blue and fluttering high up in the branches, and something else that sported a bushy tail.

Draco put a finger in his mouth and whistled, calling Cafall in from his squirrel or doxy hunt.

Seconds later, the puppy came panting in to lie at his feet. Draco knelt and snapped a leash on his collar. "Come on, puppy. Gotta get home so I can catch Hermione before she gets to the library."

Cafall whined and then darted back the way they came, making Draco and Harry run to keep up with his flying paws.

But Draco's plan to ambush Hermione in the library did not work, since that night, Severus called both his sons into the Room of Requirement to have extra dueling practice. Draco would have liked to refuse, but he knew Severus had very little time these days for sessions, and he didn't want his father to be angry with him for skipping practice over a bit of a lover's quarrel.

This session Severus taught them Impediment jinxes and Confunding Charms as well as a Reductor Curse. He also worked with Cafall, teaching him hand signals that Sarai had said the Houndmaster taught the Queen's misthounds. Mostly these were basic commands like "Stay", "Heel", "Down", and "Leave it", but eventually Severus would teach Cafall other commands like "Find It" and "Guard".

The puppy proved just as willing and eager to learn as his sons, which made him pleased.

Draco managed to keep his focus for the two hour session, but afterwards he was tired and wanted a hot shower and bed. Harry volunteered to go and find Hermione and tell her Draco had been wanting to talk to her, for which his brother was grateful.

But Harry found Hermione still studying, and though he delivered the message, he was unsure if she was truly paying attention, she was so immersed in Ancient Runes. He left her to her reading, too exhausted to repeat himself. Severus had worked them hard that night, but Harry did not regret it. Any magic he could learn to defend himself was a plus, since Moody was still teaching them standard countercurses which he had already mastered over the summer.

Over the next week and a half, the teachers began piling on the assignments and started giving surprise quizzes in Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms. All the students were studying hard, but none as hard as Hermione Granger, who had twice the workload as her fellow Gryffindors and she even beat out the studious Ravenclaws for most subjects taken by a fourth-year.

This did not go unnoticed by her Head of House, who suggested tactfully that Hermione might think carefully about taking less course electives next year and also suggested she spend less time studying and more time outdoors, since she was beginning to look peaked. But Hermione politely listened to McGonagall's suggestions and then returned to her books and parchments. She was irritated with her professor's suggestions that she take less courses and get some fresh air. Did none of them understand what a tight schedule she was on? She had almost no time for anything leisure, not if she were to finish the project her Arithmancy professor had assigned for the end of the year.

She wished she still had her Time Turner from last year, but Dumbledore had taken it back at the end of the year, saying that the Ministry would not authorize its use to a student more than once in a consecutive year.

So she began picking at her meals, hurrying through them as quickly as she could to return to her books. She didn't return to Gryffindor Tower until the very edge of curfew, and even then some of the girls whispered that she studied with a Lumos spell behind her bedhangings till all hours of the morning. She began to appear worn and drawn, with circles beneath her eyes, which she tried to hide with cosmetics, but Draco could tell her frantic pace was starting to tell on her.

He tried several times to get her to take a break, but she simply snapped at him to leave her be. "I know what I'm doing, damn it! Now just leave me alone, Malfoy!"

"Fine! You want to burn yourself out, go right ahead!" he snarled. "But don't expect me to hang around and watch." Then he departed, before he lost his temper and said even more angry words he regretted.

He stalked down to the dungeons, fists balled, anger and concern causing his stomach to ache fiercely. He spotted Severus coming out of his lab, obviously preparing to return to his apartments and sleep. "Draco? Is something wrong?"

"Dad, I need to talk to you," he began. "In private."

Snape led him to his apartment, wondering what had his son so flustered. He had just spoken with Philip, the vampire had departed to make sure Harry was safely in Gryffindor Tower before investigating the Durmstrang ship, for Karkaroff had been exhibiting increasingly edgy behavior of late, and Severus suspected him of contacting some of his old Death Eater pals. Phil had volunteered to stalk after the wizard and see what he was up to.

After locking the door and making sure all the wards were intact, Severus removed his teaching robes and boots and settled down on the couch. He looked at Draco, who remained standing for a bit before joining him.

"It's about Hermione, sir," he said formally. "I'm . . .worried about her. She studies way too much, it's an obsession, and I can't get her to listen to me. I'm worried she'll burn herself out, using her magic so much, or collapse from overwork. She hardly eats and she almost never sleeps now, she does nothing save go to class and study till all hours. It's scary, Dad. I've never seen anything like it. Even the Ravens aren't that bad, and they live and breathe books!"

"Have you tried talking to her Head of House?"

"Me? No, but Harry said McGonagall already had a talk with her about too much studying, and it didn't work, since she's still moldering in the library. Dad, I know it's not healthy, what she's doing."

"No, it isn't. I shall watch her myself during double potions tomorrow and if she looks like she's fatigued and exhausted, I shall speak to her about it." Severus said firmly.

"Maybe you ought to give her detention too. And then make her sleep during it."

Severus nodded. "That actually is not a bad idea." He considered that he might well have to resort to that if his lecture had no effect. Or speaking to Dumbledore about restricting her from her extra elective because she was putting herself under too much stress.

He reached out and clasped Draco's shoulder. "Dragon, don't worry. I know how to handle her, and I will if she appears to be falling apart as you describe. I've experienced this in the past with other students." _And myself,_ he added silently.

"Thanks, Dad," Draco said gratefully. "Hey, what's up with Uncle Phil? I thought I saw him leaving, but he didn't stop and say hello."

"He's investigating some unsavory rumors for me," Severus said evasively. "I'm sure he'll come by later on when he's done and have a practice with you and Harry."

"Oh. But then who's guarding Harry?"

"Smidgen is, since I can escort you to and from the Slytherin common room myself."

"I don't think there are many people who'll mess with us now," Draco remarked. He and Harry had been gaining quite a reputation as duelists since the outset of the Dueling Club.

"Still, better to have someone at your back," Severus said wisely, and then he rose to escort his blond son back to the Snake's Den, as the Slytherins affectionately called their dorm.

The next day, Severus did indeed keep a sharp eye upon one Hermione Granger, noting that Draco was correct in his assessment of the girl's condition. She looked too pale and her skin was drawn too tightly over her cheekbones, her eyes were burned hole in her head and though she tried to look excited about the drafts he had assigned them, which were antidotes to various poisons, she lacked her old spark and vigor.

She was paired as usual with Draco, but Snape noted that his son was doing much of the prep work and letting her stir the cauldron. Usually they divided up the tasks and managed to complete their potion ahead of schedule working as a team. Hermione performed her parts correctly, but it was almost by rote.

_She's running on pure adrenaline,_ the Potions Master thought. He knew that feeling all too well.

Yes, this definitely needed his attention, before something dire occurred.

He decided to speak with her in the library after dinner, he knew she would be there because Draco had said she now spent practically every moment she was not in class inside those walls. Severus could have forced her to come to his office and questioned her there, but he wished to see for himself just how far her obsession went. Was it as bad as his own had been?

His curiosity and concern would be satisfied soon, he thought, watching as the class made their way out the door. Right then he had tests to grade.

It was seven o'clock and Hermione already felt worn out and her eyes burned from staring too long at her list of equations and charts for her Arithmancy homework. Professor Vector wanted three feet of parchment on how certain numeric equations were based upon the sacred trinity and also the numbers of four and five, four being the number of cardinal directions and the four elements used traditionally in spells of white magic summoning and binding and five being the number of a pentacle, another traditional magical symbol, five being the sacred number to the Greek magicians, and used to bind dangerous dark creatures, such as imps and devils.

She had her theory all worked out, and just had to put it into coherent terms and yet she found her eyes were closing. She forced them open. She was tempted to drink a small vial of a Sleepless potion she had purchased last Hogsmeade weekend, its effects would last three hours and in that time she could do much studying. But right then, she could feel her eyelids growing heavy, and the potion was in her bag, and she couldn't summon the energy necessary to reach down and untie her satchel.

_Have to concentrate . . .what was that sentence again? Oh yes, if the pentacle's sides are equal then the spell performed must match up with the equation for . . ._ her mind drew a blank. She fumbled for her text, only to find it pulled from her grasp and closed firmly.

She blinked and looked up into the dark eyes of her potions professor.

"Miss Granger, you have studied quite enough for one night. Several nights, in fact."

"Professor Snape? Why are you taking my books? I need them for class," she gasped as he picked up her bag and held it away from her beseeching hands.

"And they shall be returned to you . . .for class only," he said quietly, but there was steel in his voice.

"No!" she half-shouted, stumbling to her feet. "I _need_ them! Give them back, sir!"

He held up a hand. "Calm down, Granger. And sit before you fall over. You needn't act as if I'm stealing away your firstborn. Sit down!" he ordered sharply.

Hermione obeyed, though she remained staring up at him defiantly, reminding him sharply of himself at that age. "I don't understand. You're a teacher, why would you keep my books from me?"

"Because I have noticed, as have your friends, that you have become . . .obsessed with studying, to the point of it being detrimental to your health and your magical wellbeing," Snape began.

"I'm not!" she flared. "Did Draco tell you that? Because it's not true. I can handle all my work, sir."

"Yes, Draco came to me, concerned that you have overworked yourself and will burn yourself out. It has happened before, Miss Granger. How many days do you think you can last without sleep? Or getting by on a bit of toast with jam and tea for breakfast and half a sandwich for lunch and two bites of dinner? A healthy body equals a healthy mind and you are sleep deprived and undernourished, young lady."

"How do you know that? I feel perfectly fine, sir."

Snape snorted. "So fine you are nodding off over your parchment. I know because I have eyes and can see that you display the classic symptoms of too much studying."

"Draco and Harry talk too much."

"Be glad that they do, or else you could have done yourself irreparable harm, Miss Granger," the Potions Master scolded. "Do you know what happens when you overspend your magical core? You throw yourself into the equivalent of a coma, as your magic attempts to replace its lost energy by drawing upon your body's reserves. And if you have no reserves to draw on, it shall take what it can and make you collapse, as it eats away at your organs. You will waste away and die, slowly, if the magical drain is not caught in time. Am I making myself clear, or do I need to fetch a diagram?"

"No, sir. But . . .I'm not practicing magic every night. I'm doing my homework and studying for tests. How is that wrong? That's what you're supposed to do at school!"

"Child, moderate your tone," he ordered brusquely. "There is no need to get snippy with me. I am telling you this for your own good. Why do you feel the need to study so hard? You retain information better than almost any student I currently teach."

"I know, but . . .it's not enough! Can't you understand? There is so much I need to learn, more than I thought possible, and I need to learn it now, that's why I have so many courses . . ."

"Miss Granger, while I commend your thirst for knowledge, you cannot possibly learn every subject at Hogwarts in the space of seven years. It is an impossible task, even for one such as you. Trying it will only result in your mental and physical collapse. And what a waste of a brilliant mind that would be."

"You're wrong, sir." Hermione argued, not even realizing that was what she was doing. "I _can_ do this. I may only be a Muggleborn, but I can master my subjects. And I will!"

Severus glowered down at her. "You are too stubborn for your own good, Granger. Your marks are the top of your class and yet you still feel the need to prove yourself? To whom? Your peers? Your parents?"

"Everyone!"

"That is lunacy, girl! You are destroying yourself with your incessant studying and you are blind to it. Even you have limits. Were you my child, I would lock up every book you owned and forbid you to do anything save sleep and eat for the next fortnight."

"You _wouldn't_! You're a _teacher_!" she protested, scandalized.

"Yes, but a teacher who knows the difference between a dedicated student and one who is obsessed. And you, Miss Granger, are the latter." Severus said, one index finger pointing at her.

"No!"

"Yes, and do not shout at me. Denial changes nothing. I would have thought you smart enough to know that. When you start neglecting your health for your studies you are no longer merely a studious bookworm. You are an obsessed one. I know, for I too once walked the road you now travel. You cannot see the chasm looming before you because you are too close to the edge. But take one step further and you shall fall off the cliff."

She stared up at him, mouth agape. "But . . .I thought you would understand . . ." she sounded perilously close to tears.

"I do. You think because you are Muggleborn that you need to prove irrevocably that you are the equal, if not better, to many of those born in the wizarding world. You also have an innate drive to succeed, to learn, and knowledge is like a drug to you. You drink and are never satisfied. You end up craving more and more. Why the Hat ever put you in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw or Slytherin I'll never know. You have the ambition of a snake coupled with a desire to learn that surpasses even the House of Eagles. It is something to be proud of, but it can also be a double-edged sword."

He leaned upon the desk spread with parchments and said softly, "You are too young to waste your talent and your mind this way. You need to stop and think about what you are doing. There is more to the world than books, Miss Granger. I know that is a difficult concept to grasp, since you, like me, worship the written word. But stare too long into the sun and you shall go blind. Thus did my Defense teacher, Professor Cypher, say to me when I was your age, and obsessed with learning potions and anything else I could get my hands on. I wore myself to a sliver and nearly paid the price."

"But I _need_ to study. Finals are coming . . ."

"Granger, finals are months away, in June. Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is still March, is it not?"

"Yes."

"You hardly need to study so far in advance, you are not a dullard. You are, in fact, ahead of many of your classmates. Now, enough is enough. You will listen to me, or else I shall ban you from the library and inform the Headmaster of your obsession and he will most likely put you in the Hospital Wing in order to get you back up to full strength again. For weeks."

Hermione was stunned and horrified. "No, please Professor Snape. Don't do that! It would be so . . humiliating. And wouldn't it be against school policy?"

"No. It is a teacher's duty to see to the wellbeing of his students. Even if it means protecting them from their own folly. Are you willing to listen to the alternative? For if not, I am perfectly capable of tossing you over my shoulder and putting you to bed like a cranky toddler in my quarters. Just ask either of my sons."

Hermione paled, for she knew Snape was not kidding. "Okay, sir. What . . .do you suggest?" she was too tired to argue further, and even if she wasn't, he made too much sense for her to refute him logically. His veiled threats held concern behind them and she knew he spoke so because he cared what became of her. She also knew that he would not be driven away by her sharp tongue and would not be ignored either.

"I recommend that you drop the third elective you are taking this term. No, be silent and let me finish," he held up a hand. "You can pick it up next term or study it over the summer, but right now you have a large enough workload as it is. Furthermore, you need to think about what subject or subjects you are best at, and focus on them, rather than spreading yourself too thin trying to master everything. Had you all the time in the world, you couldn't do it. Your time would be better spent learning two branches of magic thoroughly. Study others that interest you during breaks, but keep it reasonable."

He pulled up a chair and sat down. He did not need to threaten, for he had her attention. "Remember, your mind also needs a healthy body in order to function. No sleep and no food make you into a zombie and will kill you quicker than any curse. So, here is what I propose. I shall make you up a schedule, where you shall attend class and have set periods of study time, and time for meals and exercise and sleep. It will be arranged so you will have time to do things other than read and keep you from obsessing over your grades. You will follow it diligently, and I will know if you do or not, and not because my sons will inform me."

"But professor, what can I do if you don't allow me to read?" she sniffled.

"Miss Granger, there are many things you can do besides read textbooks. I will allow you to read two or three novels or magazines a week for pleasure. But I will also encourage you to take walks about the grounds and enjoy nature and fresh air. You may also spar with Harry and Draco, or assist me in gathering potion ingredients. Perhaps you could help Hagrid with his injured animals or Professor Sprout with her plants. All these things are worthy causes and will not leave you idle and bored. Professor Cypher gave me much the same options."

"Did you take his offer?"

"I did, and it is why I am standing before you now and not a shell in St. Mungos. Trust me, Miss Granger. It is not the end of the world if you don't get a hundred percent in your Ancient Runes class. Life will go on. And so will you. I will inform Professor McGonagall of your new schedule, as she ought to know of it."

"She told me I should do what you said too."

"Oh? Apparently she was not persuasive enough," he snorted.

Hermione flushed. If McGonagall had threatened her as Snape had, she would have thought the witch was putting her on. Mostly. But not so this one. Not after what Harry had told her about his days at Prince Manor. _He always does what he says, Hermione. He never threatens and doesn't follow through. Never._

"I'll . . .do what you say, sir," she agreed reluctantly. Then she looked up at him with woeful eyes, as if he had burned all of her books and locked her in a tower.

"Do not look at me that way, young lady. Someday you shall thank me for being such a bastard to you. Do you forget that Draco wishes to spend time with you and not your textbook? He has been waiting for you to put down your quill and you're lucky he hasn't grown disgusted and sought out someone else by now."

Hermione felt her heart grow cold. Had she really been that close to ruining their relationship? She knew she had shoved him away several times, but . . ."He must hate me then. For . . .for putting my studies before him."

"Hate you? No. He is annoyed with you and concerned. I would suggest you speak with him as soon as possible."

"I will, sir. And I'll agree to your terms. I didn't realize . . .I just wanted to . . ." she trailed off.

"I know. I shall keep your bag in my quarters and will send you your books as needed, as well as any parchment and ink you require. I will speak with your other teachers about assignments and so forth. I shall have the schedule to you by tomorrow evening. Keep to your end of the bargain, Miss Granger. Or you know what will happen."

"Yes, sir." She yawned, and stood up, only to find she was dizzy.

Severus caught her before she crumpled to the floor. "Merlin's bones, how long has it been since you've eaten properly?"

"Don't know. Ate some bread tonight," she mumbled, leaning against him.

Severus muttered something that sounded like "Fool girl, lunatics like you need to be taken over my knee, I swear!" before he swung her up into his arms and carried her to his quarters.

The corridors were quiet and once he reached his quarters, he ordered her a hot meal and after she had eaten gave her a Nutrient Draft and escorted her back to Gryffindor Tower, contacting Smidgen, and telling the fae cat to make sure Hermione went straight to bed.

The girl did, and Smidgen made sure she slept deeply without dreams.

Hermione slept most of the next day, as it was Saturday, and then she rose, showered and went down to eat lunch. She could feel eyes on her, and when she looked about, saw her potions professor watching her from the staff table.

"Hey, 'Mione." Draco greeted, leaning on the edge of the table and smiling cautiously. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," she said, wondering if he knew about Snape's little talk. "I'm just . . .hungry." As soon as she said that, she realized it was true. She was starving.

She carefully served herself some deviled eggs, fruit, and ham from the platters on the table.

"I can see that from how you're eating." He chuckled. "I'm glad you've got your appetite back."

She nodded.

He sat down beside her. "Would you like to go for a walk with me after you eat?"

"Yes. I would." She gave him a smile, and was relieved when he returned it without hesitation.

After she had eaten as much as she could, she allowed Draco to take her hand and together they walked down by the lake, where he paused and skipped stones into the water.

"You're good," she said shyly.

"I had a lot of practice over the summer. We have a pond at the manor," he said.

"Draco, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . .neglect you."

"Didn't you?" he frowned at her.

She flushed in shame. "Okay, maybe I did. But I . . .didn't really mean it. I just was . . .concerned over my studies."

"Obsessed, you mean."

She bit her lip. She really disliked that term, but couldn't deny it was true. "Yes."

"How come you're not all of a sudden?"

"Your dad talked to me. He . . .made me see that what I was doing was hurting me . . .and you. He told me I could have killed myself. Then he made me promise to follow a schedule he's going to make for me otherwise he'd ban me from the library and have Pomfrey put me in the hospital to get bed rest."

Draco snickered. "He really said that?"

"Yes. And he meant it too."

"I believe it."

"I didn't realize how selfish I was being until he told me," she admitted quietly. "I'm sorry for shutting you out, Draco. I treated you like . . .like a piece of furniture and I never meant to do that to you. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course, bookworm," he said, then he took her in his arms and kissed her.

She melted into his arms and wondered how she could have forgotten how good it felt to be held close, and kissed like she was a precious treasure, and how much she loved this pureblood scion, who had defied convention just for her. How could she ever have thought for an instant that musty books and parchment were worth losing him? _I really was obsessed. But now I'm sane, for the first time in . . . months. And I intend to stay that way._

When at last they drew apart, Draco was grinning and then he said, "Want to go flying, 'Mione?"

"I'm . . .not very good on a broom."

"You can fly with me. I'll hold you and you'll never fall."

"Promise?" she had always been a little scared of riding a broomstick.

"Promise."

He summoned his broom with a casual wandless gesture.

"Someday you have to teach me how to do that."

"When you have more time to spare, I will. Right now, just come fly with me, Granger." Draco said, then he mounted his broom and she sat in front of him.

They flew gracefully about the pitch and Draco kept his arm about her the entire time. She leaned back against him and felt the beat of his heart against her back and smiled. She took great gulps of the fresh air and for the first time did not feel stuffy or hot.

Draco did not try any Quidditch moves while Hermione was with him, he simply flew calmly, and treasured the moment that she was with him.

After an hour they landed and walked slowly back to the castle, where they found Severus in the Entrance Hall, waiting for them. "Miss Granger, you look much better," he said. He handed her a piece of parchment. "Your new schedule, effective on Monday."

"Thank you, sir," she replied, glancing at the parchment briefly. Then she stuffed it in her robes. "Draco and I are going to play chess."

"Oh? What kind?"

"The Muggle way. Where you need to really think in order to outsmart your opponent and nothing gets smashed."

Severus nodded and turned away, adding over his shoulder, "Draco, be careful. Miss Granger makes a formidable opponent, I would say."

Hermione smirked. "What _he_ said." Then she took Draco's arm and led him into the Great Hall, then used her wand and Summoned her chess set from her room. For the first time in over a month she felt alert and stress free and happy to spend time with her Slytherin boyfriend, who was lucky he had such a perceptive father.

**Hope you all liked this one. **

**Please take a look back at chapter 25, I've added a bit to it at the beginning which was left out by mistake, it clarifies some points about the sphinx and her challenge.**

**Just to clear up a misconception by a reviewer-I did not make up the creature called a "brownie", it has existed in English folklore for centuries. Here is the definition according to Wikipedia A ****brownie**/**brounie** or **urisk** (Lowland Scots) or _brùnaidh_, _ùruisg_, or _gruagach_ (Scottish Gaelic) is a legendary kind of creature popular in folklore around Scotland and England

Customarily brownies (a type of hob – see _hobgoblin_) are said to inhabit houses and aid in tasks around the house. However, they don't like to be seen and will only work at night, traditionally in exchange for small gifts or food. They take quite a delight in porridge and honey. They usually abandon the house if their gifts are called payments, or if the owners of the house misuse them. Brownies make their homes in an unused part of the house.

The House Elves featured in the Harry Potter series have characteristics of brownies.

**This is what Sarai was speaking of when she said house elves were otherwise known as, it was NOT intended as any kind of racial slur. **

**Next: Phil returns and finds out some interesting things about Karkaroff, plus Rita gets out her poison pen again!**


	27. The Poison Pen

**27**

**The Poison Pen**

March slid into April, and aside from Harry's brief encounter with a leprechaun on St. Patrick's Day and his subsequent misadventures with a lucky clover***** and the punishment that had followed his foolish imbibing of heather ale******, Harry had managed to keep his nose clean. He concentrated upon his studies and in trying to figure out what the next task would be. He was glad that Hermione seemed so relaxed and was spending more time with Draco instead of burning herself out studying. He wished he had more time to spend with Katie, but she was also burning the midnight oil, studying for her OWLS.

As a result, Harry started spending a bit more time with Ron and the twins and Ginny. He thought nothing of it, they had always been friends, and that hadn't changed, even when they had learned he was Severus' son. Little did he know that innocent friendship was about to undergo a radical makeover at the hands of Rita Skeeter and her poison pen.

It all started upon a Monday evening, right after Harry had finished class for the day and was heading back to the Gryffindor common room to finish up an essay for Transfiguration before going to dinner with his father and Draco in Severus' quarters.

He had been lingering outside the portrait hole, trying to remember what the password was, for a moment he had drawn a blank, when Ginny came by. She seemed upset, her eyes looked puffy, as though she had been crying, and when she looked up and saw Harry, she nearly burst into tears. "Ginny? Is something wrong?" Harry asked, concerned. He had always felt sort of protective towards the youngest Weasley, like he would have towards a younger sister.

Slowly, she nodded. "I'm a mess, Harry. I . . .I've been going out with Teddy Norton, a Hufflepuff in my year and we just . . .he just told me we can't see each other anymore because . . .because he's in love with . . .with prissy Hannah Abbott!" She practically wailed that last.

Harry didn't know what to say, he was absolute pants when it came to comforting girls, so he did what he would have done if it were Hermione or Katie crying, he hugged her. It was a purely platonic brotherly hug, nothing romantic about it whatsoever.

Ginny clung to him, crying into his robe for a few moments. Harry patted her on the back and said, "Look, I know it seems like the end of the world, but it isn't. You'll find someone else, someone who really cares about you, and then you'll forget him."

"You—you really think so?" Ginny asked, gazing up at him with a curious combination of adulation and wretchedness.

"I do. I think you've got a lot of potential, Ginny, and one day some guy's going to realize that and snatch you up like a—a Chocolate Cauldron Cake."

"A Chocolate Cauldron Cake?" Ginny giggled.

"Sorry. That was a really bad comparison."

"I think it's cute," she said. "Thanks, Harry. You always make me feel better." Then she tilted her head up and kissed him gently on the mouth. It was a bit more than a sisterly kiss, she had had a secret crush on him for years. It lasted barely a second, hardly long enough for Harry to even register he'd been kissed. Then Ginny drew away and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She turned to the portrait hole, and spoke the password, "Midnight candle."

The portrait swung aside and she stepped into the common room. Harry joined her a moment later.

"Do I look all right?" Ginny asked worriedly. "I mean, can you tell if I've been crying? Because if you can tell, so can my brothers, and if they ever find out that Norton dumped me, they'll kill him."

Harry looked her over. "No. You look tired but not all that upset anymore."

"Oh, good. Thanks again, Harry." She headed upstairs to her dorm room, leaving Harry with a bemused look on his face.

Little did they know that a certain someone had been a hidden witness to their innocent meeting outside the portrait hole, and before they knew it, some nasty rumors would be circulating.

* * * * * *

_The next morning:_

Harry sat down in his usual spot between Ron and Katie, and waited for Dumbledore to appear at the head table and announce that breakfast could commence. Hedwig, Athena, Frost, and Zephyr all flew to their respective witch or wizard with the morning post. Today Hedwig carried the newspaper and Frost had Harry's monthly Quidditch catalog.

Harry decided to look at _Quidditch Monthly_ first, and so missed the shocked and horrified glances the Gryffindors, including his friends, were giving him.

"I don't believe it!" Ron blurted. "It's just not possible." He was stll staring at the article with glazed eyes. "There's got to be a mistake!"

"I most certainly _hope_ so!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Care to explain this, Harry?" demanded an irate Katie. She poked him hard in the ribs.

"Ouch! Hey, what was that for?" he asked, astonished, looking up from his magazine.

Katie glared at him. "What was that for? Why don't you take a look at this and then ask me again?" She waved the paper in his face.

Harry took his copy of the Prophet and stared at the front page, dumbstruck.

**BOY-WHO-LIVED TWO-TIMING GIRLFRIEND!**

_Caught in the act kissing third-year Ginny Weasley, who says that she has been nursing a crush upon Harry Snape for years._

_A reputable inside source has wrote to my column revealing that Harry Snape, Hogwarts Champion, had been secretly seeing Ginny Weasley for months. The source says they would meet at the library after hours, or behind the greenhouse, or even just outside the portrait hole. "Ginny was always mad for him," a friend says. "Always wanted him and she finally convinced him to dump that tomboy Bell chick and go out with a real girl. One who knows how to shop and how to flirt and doesn't look like she just jumped off a broom."_

_It appears that friend was correct, for last evening I observed Snape and Weasley in an intimate embrace and clandestine kiss outside the Gryffindor portrait hole. They seemed very much in love, as you can see by the accompanying photo. Looks like Harry prefers redheads, seeing as his best mate is Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley's older brother. Or maybe he just wants to keep it all in the family. I recall that his father had a thing for redheads too, his only girlfriend at Hogwarts was fiery-haired Lily Evans. _

_Friends of Ginny Weasley wonder if she's "the one" for Harry? It would certainly seem so, looking at how they were kissing! It's so lovely to see first love bloom at school. I'm sure many of you recall your first kiss, how it made you all weak in the knees and feeling like you were going to start walking on air._

_Former Hufflepuff boyfriend of Ginny's has this to say about this startling revelation. "I used to date her, and I always felt she was holding back, that something was missing. I broke up with her because of that, and now I'm with my true love, Hannah Abbott, and she's free to make out with Harry Snape, who I suspect she's wanted all along. So we're both happy." _

_That may be true, but one wonders how the jilted Katie Bell will take the news that her beau has been unfaithful with a younger woman. My guess is it won't be pretty, especially if Katie thought she was going to hear wedding bells in her future. Poor girl, suckered in by a handsome face and former squeaky clean reputation, only to discover her boyfriend has been seeing another on the sly. _

_Who will Harry choose? Tune in next week to see (hopefully) the conclusion of this tragic love triangle. Me, myself, and I want to know!_

_Rita Skeeter_

Harry's face went white then red and then settled for a somewhat mottled cross between the two. "That . . .that miserable, lying, backstabbing _bitch_!" he snarled, his green eyes blazing. "Where does she get off, printing such garbage!"

"Is it? Or are you angry because it's the truth?" Katie demanded, her voice a mixture of hurt and anger.

"The truth?" Harry gaped at her. "Katie, you can't really _believe_ this stuff . . .it's all lies and rumors . . ."

"What about the picture? Is that a lie too?"

Harry looked at the picture, which showed him kissing Ginny, it was a bit grainy, but definitely recognizable as he and Ron's sister. "Not . . .not exactly."

"What's that supposed to mean? Did you kiss her or didn't you?"

"It wasn't a real kiss. She was upset, I gave her a hug, like I would Hermione, and then she thanked me and kissed me goodbye. That was it. I'm not secretly going out with her, Katie! Ron, tell her! If anyone would know who Ginny dates, it's Ron."

Ron looked up from his plate of eggs and sausage. "Uh . . right, mate. Harry's not dating Ginny, Katie. He thinks of her like a little sister and you don't date them. Honest."

Katie eyed him suspiciously. "Maybe you don't know your sister as well as you think. She had a crush on him for years!" Katie stabbed her finger down at the article. "I know some of the stuff printed in here isn't the whole truth, but there has to be some substance behind the rumors. I know _I've_ never kissed my brother on the lips. And all of us girls know that Norton just broke up with her yesterday. Guess she didn't want to let the grass grow under her feet."

Just then, Ginny arrived, panting and out of breath, she had overslept. She went to sit in her usual spot, across the table from Harry, and then froze at the sight of all the looks she was getting. Some were hostile, others admiring. "Did I miss something?"

"Nothing but me leaving. I lose my appetite when I have to sit next to liars and cheaters," Katie said frostily, then she picked up her bookbag and went to leave the hall. She gave Harry a fierce look, despite the tears in her eyes. "If you didn't want to go out with me anymore, Snape, why didn't you just say so? Maybe I never knew you either!"

As she strode from the hall, students' heads turned and whispers began starting up.

"Katie! Wait!" Harry called, then he scrambled over the bench and ran after her.

He caught up with her just outside the Charms classroom. "Katie, at least give me a chance to explain—"

"I did. You said you _kissed_ her. And the picture proves it! What else do you want to explain, Snape? How you dream about her at night? How when you kiss me, you imagine it's her?"

"No, dammit! I'm not in love with Ginny! I never was or ever will be." Harry shouted in frustration. "I've only ever loved you! Why won't you trust me? Katie, please! Skeeter's a yellow journalist, she prints gossip that barely has a grain of truth to it just to sensationalize and get people to read her column."

"Then how did she know about you last night?"

"I don't know! I was stuck outside the portrait hole and Ginny came along and unlocked it. She did break up with Norton last night and she was upset, so I hugged her for maybe ten seconds and she kissed me. _I_ didn't kiss _her_. And somehow that skulking rat Skeeter saw us and took a picture of it. But it means nothing!"

"Maybe not to you." Katie sniffed. "Just go away, Harry."

"No. Not till you listen to me. I am not in love with Ginny Weasley!"

"Pictures don't lie," she snapped.

"But they only show the surface of things," Harry argued. "Katie, I've known Ginny since first year, if I wanted to go out with her I would have asked her long before. But I didn't, because I think of her as a sister."

"But she's not and you're not and I'm fed up with being your left heel! Leave me alone!" and with that, Katie slammed the door to the Charms classroom in his face and locked it as well.

The room was empty and she made her way to the first desk she saw and sat down and cried.

* * * * * *

All that day, Harry was distracted, he couldn't concentrate upon anything because he kept seeing Katie's face in front of him. He tried to find her to speak with her again, but she was absent from the Great Hall for lunch and dinner, and she even missed their evening study session. When he tried to ask Angelina and some of her other friends about her, they all gave him the cold shoulder.

"She doesn't want to see you, Snape," said Angelina coldly.

"Yeah. Haven't you hurt her enough?" demanded Tamara Archer.

"Why don't you back to your little Weasley tart and leave her alone?" snapped Alicia Spinnet.

Harry threw up his hands. "Bloody hell! I can't believe you're willing and ready to believe that lying double-tongued Skeeter instead of me! If I really was happy with Ginny, why would I be looking for Katie? Huh?"

"Maybe you're into more than one at a time," sneered Angelina.

"I . . .that's just . . ." Harry shook his head. "Look, just tell her I was looking for her, okay?"

Then he stalked off, furious at Skeeter. He couldn't believe how one tiny peck on the mouth could have led to all of this melodrama. It was so bloody ridiculous it was funny. He would have laughed like hell if he hadn't wanted to cry instead.

"She won't see me or talk to me," he reported mournfully to Draco and Ron that evening in the library.

"Tough break, mate," said Ron sympathetically. "I've been trying to tell people it's all a bunch of bull, but so far nobody believed me. Ginny too. They all think we're covering your arse."

"Have you tried writing her a letter?" Draco suggested. "Don't address the envelope, just send it to her."

"She'd probably tear it into bits once she realized it was from me," Harry sighed. "Besides, I have nothing to apologize for! I didn't do a damn thing wrong. She's acting like I . . .I slept with Ginny for Merlin's sake!"

Draco made a face. "No offense, Ron, but that's like robbing the cradle. Best thing you could do, Harry, is just wait for her too cool down."

"Guess so. I really _hate_ Rita Skeeter!"

* * * * * *

_Three days later_:

Harry wondered if he were under some kind of curse, for his luck had gone from bad to worse. He had forgotten to hand in his potions essay, and now his father was mad at him and requested he stay after class—actually it hadn't been a request, but a command—Harry was certain he was in for a long lecture and maybe even an unofficial detention. Severus only gave those out to his sons when he didn't wish to take points from their Houses and make detention public. But they were as bad as any detention on the logs and sometimes worse.

On top of that, Katie still wasn't talking to him, she had missed the Dueling Club, telling Draco she was sick and couldn't practice, and every time Harry went to find her, she was nowhere in the castle. Or in Hogsmeade. Rumors were still flying about him and Ginny, not quelled in the slightest by his and her insistence that nothing was going on. If anything, it seemed to add fuel to fire. Harry despaired of ever mending their relationship.

He fidgeted in his seat under his father's disapproving glare at the end of the period, though at least he had managed to brew his potion—an Allergic Relief Draft—correctly. Severus gave him full marks for it, but did not relent otherwise. Ron and Hermione shot him commiserating glances, as did Draco, before they left.

"Good luck, phoenix," Draco mouthed before Severus shooed him out of the classroom and turned to his wayward son.

"Mr. Snape, my office."

Harry rose and followed his parent silently into the office through a connecting door at the back of the classroom. Since the incident with the exploding potion, Severus had gotten permission from Dumbledore to have three exits from his classroom. One was the usual one leading to the corridor, and the other was an emergency one leading to an empty unused classroom. The third led to his office.

"Sit."

Harry obeyed, sitting upon the hard wooden ladder-back chair that Snape kept especially for this purpose. No comfortable recliners for those who misbehaved in Snape's classroom.

Severus turned to face him. "Well?" he drawled, in a soft voice that nevertheless contained volumes of disappointment. "Would you care to explain why you didn't turn in your potions essay?"

"I . . .I forgot it, sir," Harry admitted, hanging his head.

"You forgot to put it in your bag, or forgot to do it?"

"I . . .forgot to do it. Dad-I mean Professor—I'm sorry. I knew it was due today, I had it written down and all, but somehow I just forgot." He knew it sounded lame and that his father would never go for it. He rummaged in his bag. "See, here's the outline I made two nights ago."

Severus took the parchment Harry handed him. "This doesn't excuse your memory lapse."

"I know. But I didn't do it on purpose, sir."

"Deliberately or not, the end result is the same. No essay means a zero."

"Couldn't I just . . . make it up?"

"On what grounds? If you were ill, then yes, I would allow it. But you aren't sick, just suffering from a momentary lapse of memory." Severus said tartly. "One which I hope will be cured after this. I told you in the beginning of the year that I wouldn't show you any favors, Mr. Snape."

"I know, but . . .I've been under a lot of pressure," Harry protested. "From the tournament and these stupid rumors, not that you'd care, since you never bother to read Skeeter's gossip column."

"While I don't normally read such trash, I am aware of what she wrote about you and Katie and Ginny Weasley," Severus said, his voice a shade less harsh. "I can understand you being upset, but even so, Harry, that isn't an excuse for forgetting to do your homework."

"Isn't it? I'd bet that if it were you having problems with Mum like me, you would have forgotten your essay too!"

"Do not raise your voice to me, young man," Severus warned, his eyes flashing. "You are probably right, but that is neither here nor there. If I had done so, you can be sure I would take my reprimand as deserved and not attempted to wriggle my way out of it."

"Fine!" Harry huffed, knowing the professor was right, but hating to admit it. "But now you've ruined my average."

"_I_ have? Say rather, _you_ have, by being so absent-minded," Severus corrected. "One zero should not affect your average that much. Not if you do some extra credit work for me."

"Like what?"

"I shall come up with something sufficiently challenging," Severus promised. Then he came around his desk and laid a hand upon his son's shoulder. "Harry, I _do_ know what you're going through, believe it or not. Your mother and I quarreled this same way in our fifth year. James Potter fancied her, I came upon them kissing down by the lake, and wouldn't listen to her when she told me he had started it and she was trying to end it. I blew up at her, we had an awful row, called each other some terrible names, and we didn't talk to each other for weeks."

"Sounds like me and Katie. How did you fix it?" Harry asked.

Severus' mouth quirked. "I didn't. My best friend Regulus Black, yes, he was your godfather's younger brother, he tricked me into going into the Room of Requirement and Lily also, and once we were inside, he locked the door and refused to let us out until we'd talked to each other and ironed out our differences. At first we wanted to kill him, but looking back on it, that was exactly what we needed—time and privacy to work things out. And his tactic was successful—we forgave each other and agreed that we had both been acting like arseholes and somebody should have kicked us hard and we made up."

"That's it? That sounds too easy."

"Sometimes, Harry, simple and direct works best in a relationship. I know that both of you are hurting due to the poison pen of that harridan," Severus said, and he scowled. "I can lock both of you in my potions classroom and take away your wands if you'd like."

Harry sighed. "That might work, but only if you got a signed testimonial from that wench Skeeter that everything she printed was a lie. Katie won't believe me else."

Severus' lip twitched. "I could go one better than that and have Phil hypnotize her and make her write another article retracting the one she wrote previously."

"Really? You'd do that for me?"

"I want you to be happy, son. I also don't want Skeeter to ruin what could be a decent relationship with her infernal gossip-mongering. I don't enjoy seeing you miserable. Besides, when you're miserable, your homework suffers for it."

Harry made a face. "Don't remind me. Will you ask Uncle Phil tonight then?"

"I shall. I am sure he would not mind, he detests Skeeter as much as we do."

"Where is he, anyhow?"

"I believe he is spying upon Karkaroff. There is something going on between him and Professor Moody that has made him suspicious," Severus whispered.

"Like what?"

"I do not know. Philip will tell me when he's ready. In the meantime, I would suggest that you focus on your schoolwork and ignore both Miss Bell and Miss Weasley. If people see that you aren't reacting to the rumors and are . . .playing it cool, as you teenagers say nowadays, that will also dampen Katie's anger."

"What if it doesn't work?"

"Then there is always my classroom, though I will warn you now, you are not allowed to throw or break anything in it, or else you will have detention through the summer with me."

Harry managed a small smile at that. "Thanks, Dad."

Severus snorted, looking embarrassed. "You had best be going, or else you'll be late for Herbology."

"I will?" Harry glanced at the clock on the wall.

"You used up your free half-an-hour period with this discussion," his father pointed out.

"Oh. Well, it was worth it. Excepting the beginning where you chewed my arse out," he added with a rueful smirk.

"Unless you'd like a repeat performance, Harry Snape, I would suggest you move your backside down to the greenhouse. Because I won't write you a note excusing your from your tardiness if you are late for Professor Sprout."

"_Tardiness_? Who uses that word anymore?" Harry teased. "You're starting to sound like the Oxford dictionary, Dad."

"Enough of your cheek, boy. Go, get to class and quit dawdling! I mean it."

"Okay, okay. I'm going, keep your robe on," his son muttered cheekily.

"Five points from Gryffindor for your disrespect."

"_Dad_! Come on!"

Severus raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms, and gave him a stern look.

Harry got the message and slung his bag over his shoulder and started to leave the office. He still had ten minutes to get to the greenhouse. That might have troubled him a few minutes before, but now he ran as if his feet had wings, for his father had given him hope that all might not be lost, and there might be a way to get his stubborn girlfriend to listen to reason.

*** for the full story of Harry and the leprechaun see Wizard's Luck, posted here**

****to find out exactly what happened after that, I will be posting a short sequel to Wizard's Luck called "Unlucky" soon. Look for it! I will place an alert on WL to let those of you who have alerted it know. Thanks!**

**I know it's been forever since I updated this, but I've been compelled to work on Two Hawks Hunting and Moon Fire and also been waylaid by holidays and sickness. Hope you enjoy this.**

**Next chapter: The return of Philip and Snape's revenge on Skeeter. Will it cause Katie to forgive/believe Harry? Or should Severus lock them both in his classroom? Feel free to answer this, since I'm undecided as to how the next part should play out.**


	28. Something to Talk About

**Something to Talk About**

"Let me get this straight. This Rita Skeeter, gossip monger, wrote an article in the paper about you throwing Katie over for your best friend's sister and also used photos of you and her kissing to give evidence to her fabricated story?" Phil elaborated over dinner that same night.

"Pretty much." Harry said glumly. "But I didn't kiss Ginny, Uncle Phil. _She_ kissed _me_."

"Idiot!" Draco muttered, scowling down at his plate of mashed potatoes and veal marsala. "She should have kept her mouth where it belonged, the little—"

"Draco!" Severus warned.

His blond son clamped his mouth shut and began eating, so Harry never did learn what he had been about to say. Though he was certain it was derogatory, otherwise Severus wouldn't have spoken like that. Both his sons knew that their father did not enjoy punishing them, so he usually gave them a warning beforehand, as a last attempt for them to mitigate their behavior. The warning was usually heeded.

"But Katie doesn't believe that," Phil continued, ignoring the reprimand from Severus to Draco.

"No. I tried to tell her that it didn't mean anything but . . .that bloody picture makes it look like we were . . .you know . . .getting it on," Harry said, flushing. "And well, Ginny's always been kind of . . .sweet on me. But I never encouraged her. She's Ron's little sister, for Godsake! If I ever went out with her—which I won't—it would totally muck up our friendship."

"You can say that again," Draco agreed. "If we ever have a little sister and Goyle tried to date her, I'd have to kill him. Just thinking about it makes me sick."

"I see. Relationships are complicated things," the vampire said, sipping at his glass of red wine. "At any age, as I ought to know. But especially at yours, when you're still trying to figure out who you are and what you want out of your life and still going through hormonal changes."

Both boys blushed and started eating very quickly.

Philip chuckled. "What? You think I don't remember what it's like? I know it's been a long time—"

"Like forever," Harry put in cheekily.

"—but I still recall what a wreck I was when I first started noticing girls. Keep in mind, back then that I was the second son of a lord, and considered quite a catch, but I wasn't really free to choose a girl, that was something done by your parents. And every time they introduced me to a likely girl at a revel, I used to think, is she smiling because she likes me, or she likes my title, or because her father told her to be nice and don't embarrass the family name or else he'd beat her? I put myself through the torments of the damned."

"_You_, Uncle Phil?" Harry stared at the elder Snape. "But you're . . .really good looking." It seemed impossible that the suave elegant vampire had ever been an awkward adolescent, prone to the same fears and insecurity as Harry was, but Harry knew Philip was not lying.

"And that made it worse. Because then I wasn't sure if she liked my pretty face and my handsome physique, or if she liked me—Philip Anthony Snape. Sometimes beauty can be a curse as well as a blessing."

"So what should I do?" Harry asked then.

"I think you need to sit down with Katie and have a long talk."

"She's been avoiding me. That's what she does when she's hurt and angry. She hides herself away."

"Sounds like somebody else I know," Severus said pointedly.

Draco shrugged. "I don't really like confrontations much. Especially not with girls. Hermione was driving me nuts before I finally had it out with her."

"Sometimes the longer you wait to confront a problem, the worse off it is," Phil said sagely. "In this case, Harry, I would recommend you force a confrontation if necessary. Right, Severus?"

Severus nodded. "My offer still stands, son."

"I know, Dad. I'm probably going to take you up on it."

"What offer?" Draco asked.

Harry turned to his brother. "Dad offered to lock us both in his classroom so we could have some privacy and be forced to talk things over. He said his best friend did that once to him and my mother when they were fighting."

Draco laughed. "Guess it worked." Then he added, "If you'd like, I could put in a good word for you with Katie. I can't believe she thinks you'd throw her over for silly little Ginny Weasley."

"She's insecure," Severus said abruptly. "Like most teenage girls her age. And boys. Phil's right, talking is the only way to mend this."

"Okay, but I need you to do something about Skeeter, Uncle Phil. Because I don't want something like this to ever happen again. I'm sick and tired of her spreading lies and rumors about me just to make her column more interesting. I want it to _stop_." Harry said grimly. "She's ruining my life with her stupid little sly remarks. I don't know how she got that picture, either."

"She could have been lying in wait for you in the corridor," Severus said. "Using some kind of non-detection magic, and snapped that picture just in time."

"Right. That sounds like exactly the kind of dirty trick she'd pull." Harry scowled, his resemblance to Severus even more pronounced.

"We were wondering if you wouldn't mind using your vampire eyes to hypnotize her and force her to retract her lies and hearsay by writing a retraction," Severus said to Phil.

The vampire grinned, his violet eyes glowing. "It would be my pleasure. That woman needs to be taught a lesson in manners. And proper journalism. Her grammar and prose are atrocious. I may also go a bit further and make her give you a public apology, Harry. Among other things."

"Thank you, Uncle Phil," Harry said sincerely. "It's good to have a vampire on your side."

Philip began laughing, and nearly choked on his wine. "Oh, Harry! You really amaze me sometimes." He set down his wine glass and wiped his mouth, thinking how lucky he was to have gotten to know these particular descendants.

* * * * * *

_The next evening:_

Rita Skeeter had always prided herself on being an unflappable sort of witch. She had seen and heard it all during her forty-some-odd years of life, and felt it her duty to write that which the public wanted—scandal and dirty little secrets. She had always been a fan of juicy gossip and that had not changed since she finished school. When she first went to work for the Daily Prophet as a wet-behind-the-ears journalist, she had been regulated to writing boring topics like the weather and crummy pieces on so-and-so's birthday bash or tea social. She had nearly died of boredom. But then she had gotten a break when the reporter writing a social column had gotten sick and Rita filled in for him. Suddenly Nick Navarre lost his place as the leading socialite columnist and Rita took over, on account of her digging up dirt on the wealthy Prendergast family—Mr. Prendergast had been having an affair with his nanny while his wife went away on business, a nanny who was a Squib, no less. _That_ scandal had rocked the pureblood elite for months and put Rita on top as the Prophet's top gossip columnist. Where she had stayed for years, renowned as the witch who could discover anything about anybody, and she never revealed her sources.

Her latest scoop, about young Harry Snape and his love triangle, was the sort of thing she adored. Lots of teenage angst and troubled hearts and tension, just the sort of ongoing drama she needed to draw in readers. Because though they would deny it to their last breath, people loved a scandal, especially among the rich and famous, since it brought them down to the level of the ordinary man and gave them something to talk about. Now that she had her readers hooked on the saga of Harry and his two girlfriends, she was set for weeks.

Humming to herself, she tucked her viridian Quick Quotes Quill into her portable writing case and started to leave her room at the end of the second floor corridor and head into the Great Hall for supper, when a knock came at her door.

She opened it and gasped.

There stood the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on in her entire life. He topped her by at least a foot, was wearing a long-sleeved tunic and a set of black breeches that emphasized his well-muscled thighs and calves, and she had always admired a well-heeled man. This one could have caused old witches to go into cardiac arrest if they stared at him long enough. His silky black hair fell to his shoulders in a magnificent sweep and his face reminded her of an angel—though not the insipid harp-playing kind, but a fallen angel, for there was a gleam of wickedness lurking in his brilliant violet eyes.

"Hello! I haven't seen _you_ around before!" Rita purred, nearly salivating.

"I'm sorry, I must have gotten turned around, I was looking for the . . .ah . . .staff room," Phil said lazily, affecting a befuddled look. "Please forgive me for disturbing you, Miss—."

"Just call me Rita, please. And I shan't forgive you anything unless you come in and have a drink." The reporter offered.

"I . . .well, if you insist."

"I do," she simpered then practically dragged him into the room. "Do have a seat." She gestured to the small sitting area that all the guest rooms in the castle had. Then she poured herself and her unexpected guest a measure of firewhiskey. "Nothing like a drink to break the ice."

"Charmed, my lady," Philip said, turning on his vampiric charm. He smiled at her politely and she almost fell into his lap. "My name is Philip and I am delighted to make your acquaintance."

"Me too, darling," Rita said, and handed him the glass. "Are you here to apply for a teaching post? Because if you are, I'll start school all over again!"

Philip gave a soft chuckle, pretending to be amused at her lame innuendo. "I was considering one, the Headmaster invited me down here to see if the school and I would suit . . ." He pretended to drink the firewhiskey. "Are you also a teacher here?"

"Me? Oh holy good God, no! You wouldn't catch me dead teaching those little brats! No, I'm a reporter for the Daily Prophet, here to cover the Triwizard Tournament and its Champions. Pretty big news, there being four champions this year with that unexpected entry—Harry Snape. But I'm sure you've heard all about it . . ."

"I have indeed."

"I hope you've been following my column, Philip."

"But of course, lovely Rita," Philip assured her, and he made a come hither motion with his right hand.

Rita was beside him in a flash, his seductive aura drawing her to him like a moth to a flame.

Before she could register the fact, Philip had taken her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes, pinning her gaze with his own.

Rita felt herself drowning in his gaze, swallowed up by those perfect violet eyes, and she found herself unable to look away.

"Look at me, Rita Skeeter," the vampire ordered, and he turned the full force of his gaze upon her.

"Yes, my lord."

"Look, listen, and obey." Philip intoned. Rita nodded jerkily. "You printed a very damning article about Harry Snape last week. One full of lies and innuendos that have harmed his relationship with Katie Bell for no good reason. My nephew is not your own private scandalmaker, his personal life is none of your business!" he growled, allowing his fangs to show.

Rita shivered upon seeing them, but could not withdraw from his grasp. "I want you to do three things for me. First, you will write a retraction of that awful story, and inform your readers that you had mistaken information regarding Harry and Ginny Weasley and that you regret ever publishing such trash. You were misinformed and wish to make amends to Mr. Snape and Miss Bell. You will then give Mr. Snape a public apology during breakfast tomorrow in front of the whole school. You will write the article tonight and send it to your editor and request it be published in the morning edition. Thirdly, you will refrain from ever writing such insipid piddling little stories again. About anyone, but especially Harry Snape. He has endured much misery and sorrow, there is no need for you to add to it. Am I clear?"

"Yes, my lord. As you command, my lord."

"Good. From now on you will search out human interest stories and write about them, and refrain from such slanderous pieces. If you fail to comply with my wishes, you wicked hag, _this_ shall be your fate!"

Rita screamed as he bared his fangs all the way and his eyes turned red with Hunger.

"Silence!" he hissed, and her scream cut off abruptly. "If you ever break your word to me I will know. And I shall come for you. No door, no lock, no ward of protection shall keep me out. I am the Lord of Darkness. I shall come for you, wherever you may be, and your blood shall feed my Hunger." He drew her close and bit her gently upon the throat, hard enough to leave two twin fang marks and that was all. "Remember, woman. Every time you look in the mirror, you shall see the marks of my fangs. Had I chosen, this night you would be dead, cold and lifeless upon the floor, never to pick up a pen again." He said that matter-of-factly, the way one might say they were going to have steak for dinner, his mouth curved in a horrific smile, eyes glowing beast red. "But I decided to be merciful. Count your blessings. I shall give you one chance to make things right. Do so. Or else . . .you know what awaits you," he said, his voice darkening to velvet encased steel. "Oh, one more thing. You shall speak of our meeting to no one and no one shall see my mark save you."

"I understand, my lord."

"Very go_o_d, little beetle," Philip purred ruthlessly. His glimpse into her narrow little mind had revealed her great secret—that she was an unregistered Animagus. "Awake."

He clapped his hands sharply and turned his head away, breaking his compulsion.

Rita sagged to the floor by his feet, shaking and whimpering. "Please, don't hurt me, my lord. Please!"

Philip tisked at her. "Not unless you give me cause," he said, flashing his fangs again.

"I won't. I swear it upon . . .upon my mother's grave." The witch's eyes were huge and terrified.

"How appropriate," drawled the master vampire. He put a finger under her chin and smiled nastily. "Remember, sweet, that your own awaits you should you break your word."

"I won't! I promise!" Rita babbled hysterically.

"Stop your bloody whining, woman! Get up and start writing." Philip sneered as Rita cringed. "If you're lucky, you might finish in time for the deadline, which is about two hours from now. I would suggest you write quickly. And _do_ remember proper punctuation and grammar, would you? All those errors are most distracting."

Rita nearly tripped over her own feet getting up. She threw herself into her desk chair and tore open her writing case, rubbing at the red marks upon her throat, which burned icily.

When she looked up, the master vampire was gone.

But she would wake screaming from horrific nightmares for weeks afterward.

Outside her quarters, Philip leaned against the wall, still veiled, smirking slyly. He had not had so much fun scaring someone witless since he was seventeen and had caught some bullies intimidating his squire. _I hope I didn't overdo it._ Then he shrugged. Skeeter was lucky. Had he been a follower of the dark she would have suffered the fate he had described. She did not know how close she had come to death that night, for he had been sorely tempted to kill her, and only his oath to hunt dark wizards held him back. _You are lucky, little bug, that I have scruples you lack,_ he thought darkly, then he left the castle to seek other prey.

* * * * * *

_Earlier that evening:_

Draco followed Katie from her Transfiguration class, using a minor light veil that Phil had taught him so he wouldn't be spotted by her or any of her friends. Though he normally got along well with the girls on the Gryffindor Quidditch team off the pitch, lately they had closed ranks around Katie and refused to speak with either Harry or him. Normally, Draco wouldn't have cared, but he did now because it hurt Harry and he felt very protective of his "little" brother.

He ghosted along behind the three girls, Chasers all, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, waiting until they had reached the portrait hole. He allowed the other two to enter the portrait hole first, then he grabbed the back of Katie's robe and yanked on it, making the girl stumble backwards. The portrait hole shut with a snap.

Katie cried out, startled. "What in Merlin's name just happened?"

"I happened," Draco said, and lowered the veil.

"Draco!" she exclaimed as he popped into view. "What . . .why are you here?"

"We need to talk," Draco said quietly.

"If this is about your brother and me, I don't want to discuss it."

He ignored her words as if she had never spoken them. "Now, we can do this two ways, Bell. One we can have this discussion right here in the middle of the corridor where anyone can hear us, or two, we can go somewhere private. Your call. Either way, though, we _will_ be discussing it."

"You're not my lord and master, Malfoy!" Katie snapped. "Quit acting like it."

"Only when you quit running away and let me explain a few things."

"I'm not running away!"

"No? That's not what it looked like from my end."

Katie squared her shoulders and said angrily, "Very well, Malfoy. If you insist. Let's go to the Room of Requirement."

"Come on. Right now."

"I need to tell Angelina and Alicia where I am," Katie argued as he grabbed her firmly by the arm.

"This will only take a few minutes." Draco said.

They had reached the Room of Requirement and went inside. This time the room had comfy couches and a fire crackling and looked like some rich wizard's home. "Have a seat," Draco gestured to the couch and then remained standing until Katie sat down, as he had been taught since childhood.

Katie scowled at him. "Okay, Malfoy. Say what you have to say, I have homework and OWL's to study for."

Draco quickly gathered his thoughts. "All right. I know you're mad as blazes at my brother because you think he has a thing for Ginny and he kissed her, when all along he said he loved you."

"That's right. He—he . . .I can't believe he did that to me! And with Ginny of all people! She's a baby, barely thirteen, if that!" Katie cried. Her blue eyes swam with tears.

"Katie, you ought to know Harry by now. He would never hurt you that way."

"That's what I thought too. Until I saw that picture. He was _kissing her_!"

"I know, but just listen to me for a minute. There's two sides to every story. What if Harry didn't kiss her—"

"He admitted he did!"

"Yeah, because he's a noble idiot. I can tell you right now that he didn't start that kiss—Weasley did. _She_ kissed _him_. And my brother was probably too shocked to push her off. And that was just what that hag Skeeter was waiting for. She took a picture and put it in the paper, knowing how it would be taken by people. She loves a good scandal, and you and Harry were the perfect couple. And you fell right in her trap."

"He told you that?"

"Yes. Katie, you're the first serious girlfriend he's ever had. He doesn't consider Ginny as a girlfriend, he thinks of her as a little sister."

"What about how _she_ thinks of him?"

"Does it matter?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "Yes, it does! I don't want her trying to steal away my boyfriend!"

"Then you still think of Harry as your boyfriend?"

"We haven't broken up yet, Malfoy. I don't want to lose him, but I don't want to have a boy who thinks it's okay to cheat on me either."

"Harry doesn't."

"Of course you'd say that. He's your brother. Do you have any idea how hurt I was when I saw that article and picture? All of her friends were whispering behind their hands and making snide remarks about me, saying I was nothing but a witch who could fly, that he only went out with me because I was Snape's pet and he arranged it. And when Ginny showed up, they were all signs and sympathy, and she just ate it up! She's always had a thing for him and the first chance she got, she kissed him! What was I supposed to think?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "That Harry has better taste than to make out with that red-haired little kid. You both hurt each other and that's just plain stupid. I think you ought to talk to Harry. Then make a decision."

"I don't know if I can face him."

"You'll never know unless you do it," Draco sighed. "Think about it, okay?" He waited until she nodded, then he left the room. He had done all he could. He just hoped it was enough. He shook his head angrily. It figured that Ginny would mess things up. If she had just kept her hands off his brother, Skeeter would have never taken that picture and Katie would still be together with Harry. Skeeter would have had to dig up some new dirt on Harry, and it might not have clung so hard, nor done so much damage. Rita might have started the fire, but Ginny had heaped wood and oil on the blaze.

Harry met him just outside the Snapes' quarters. "Well? Did it work?"

"Yes and no. I made her think, or at least I hope so."

Harry groaned.

"Little brother, you need to get your arse in gear and talk to her."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"You also should give Ginny a piece of your mind for being so bloody stupid!" Draco said bluntly. "Unless she wanted to try and break you up."

"Ginny wouldn't—"

"Harry, you always tend to believe the best of people. I don't think Weasley girl's as innocent as she acts." Draco said suspiciously.

"And you always tend to believe the worst, Dragon."

"At least that way I'm never disappointed." Draco pointed out, giving his brother a friendly clap on the shoulder.

Harry sighed. "I think I need to talk to Dad."

"What for? Moral support?"

"No. I need him to lock Katie and me up in his classroom for awhile."

Draco looked as if he were about to call the magical therapy police. "Harry, I think you've totally gone round the bend."

"No, I haven't. Besides it was Dad's idea."

"You're really going to go through with it?"

"Wizard's honor," Harry said.

"Unbelievable!" Draco said. Then he grinned. "How very Slytherin of you, little brother."

Together they entered the Snape quarters, hoping that Severus would hold the key to restoring Harry's relationship.

* * * * * *

_The next morning:_

Katie's alarm clock went off right in her ear, and she rolled over sleepily and wondered why in hell she had set it to go off at quarter to seven in the morning on a Saturday? She didn't think she had Quidditch practice. She yawned and sat up, shutting off the incessant ringing by smacking the top of it. Then she saw the note lying next to her on the bed, the note she had received from Professor Snape last night, requesting her to come to his classroom at seven o'clock AM and prepare ingredients for a Draught of Living Death. Katie had learned long before never to question why the professor requested her, but to simply obey, for he always had a reason, even if the reason were known only to himself.

So she forced herself to get up and dressed and hotfoot it down to the potions classroom, making the dungeon with barely two minutes to spare. She arrived at the classroom panting slightly, her hair in disarray, but at least she wasn't late. She threw open the door and stepped inside, all the lights were on. "Professor? I'm here."

She glanced about, not seeing her teacher anywhere. The room appeared empty. Her brow crinkled. "Professor Snape? Sir, are you here?"

"No, but I am," came Harry's voice and he walked into the classroom from Snape's office, closing the office door behind him. It locked automatically.

"Harry! What . . .what are you doing here?" Katie squeaked in surprise. She started to back away. "Where's the professor?"

"Here," called Severus, and he was, standing in the doorway of the classroom.

"I . . I don't understand. Why is Harry here?"

"Because you two need to talk and now is the best time."

"No!" Katie cried, understanding dawning in her eyes. "I don't want to talk to him!"

"But you need to. You have two hours to settle your differences like two rational human beings instead of two immature children," Severus said crisply. "I would suggest you get started." And with that, he billowed out of the classroom and locked the door as well.

"I don't believe this!" Katie shouted, running over to try the door. It was locked. "Professor, let me out! This is . . .you can't do this!"

"Technically, he can. And he has." Harry said. "Why don't you have a seat?"

"No, thanks. I'll stand."

"Suit yourself," Harry took a seat across from her, trying to seem nonchalant. Inwardly, he was quaking, fearing this was the part where she dumped him.

Katie remained standing, her arms crossed. "I have nothing to say to you." She stated, trying hard to maintain her façade of anger.

"Well, I have something to say to you," Harry snapped, losing his temper. "Don't believe everything you see or read in the bloody Prophet! Rita Skeeter's a dirty stinking liar! You ought to know that from the last time, with that stupid article in _Witch Weekly_. That was nothing but rumors and innuendos."

"Oh really? Well, _that_ one didn't have a picture of you snogging Ginny Weasley!" Katie yelled. "_That_ one didn't have statements from all her prat friends about how much better you were with her than with me, who looked as if I had just jumped off a broom!"

"So what? Why should you give a damn what they say about you?"

"Maybe I shouldn't, but I do! And this is the second time her name is connected with yours, Harry. Why is it always that little brat who comes on to you? Is it because you encourage her?"

"NO!" Harry exploded. "Listen to me, you jealous twit! I've _never_ encouraged her. _I_ didn't kiss her, _she_ kissed _me_."

"Then why did you let her? You told me you think of her as a sister, so why did you let her do that, Harry?"

"She took me by surprise. I wasn't expecting it. All I was trying to do was comfort her. She was crying over losing her boyfriend, for Merlin's sake."

"Oh, and you were the first person she ran to, right? How convenient."

"You want to know how it happened? Fine, I'll tell you. I was coming up to the Fat Lady and I had forgotten my password. While I was trying to remember it, Ginny came up the stairs. She looked upset, and I asked her what was wrong, she told me her boyfriend from Hufflepuff had just dumped her for Hannah Abbott. I put my arm around her and she started crying into my shoulder. All I did was hold her."

"And then she kissed you, right?"

"Yeah. What did you think happened, I tore off her clothes and we had wild sex in the corridor?"

In spite of herself, Katie smothered a snicker. "If you had, Snape, Skeeter might have gotten a double feature and everything."

Harry snorted. "Damn miserable harpy, always skulking around where she isn't supposed to and making my life hell. If you want to know, that kiss wasn't anything spectacular. I didn't really notice it until it was over."

She gazed into his green eyes and saw that he met hers squarely. There was no deception in them. "You really mean that. You didn't feel . . .anything for her?"

Harry made a disgusted face. "Just sorry that she had broken up with her boyfriend. She did _not_ turn me on." He sighed, aggravated with her intransigence. "Why can't you believe that? I don't cheat on my girlfriend. Especially not with somebody who's like my little sister. I don't care what Skeeter made that photo look like, I am not interested in Ginny Weasley. Either you trust me or you don't."

"I do trust you," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. She looked away abruptly. "It's myself I don't trust."

"What? You're not making a lick of sense."

"I don't trust myself to do what's right. To-to let you go if-if you think I'm not good enough . . .that I'm not . . .who you want to spend the rest of your life with. You don't have to stay with me, Harry, if you don't want me . . ."

He simply stared at her, and it was then he saw it—the hidden vulnerability, the fear that she was not enough, not good enough, the awful insecurity that had plagued her ever since that first article. It was that which had driven her to accuse him in a jealous rage, that had made her hide away rather than speak with him. Katie Bell was _afraid_ of losing him. So afraid that she was creating phantoms where there were none.

"Katherine Bell, I fought a sphinx and a kelpie for you. Does that sound like I don't want you or need you? I took you to the Yule Ball. Does that look like I don't want to be seen with you? I've never wanted anyone else _but_ you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. When I'm with you, that's all I see and all I want to see. Nothing else. I love you and I've never said that to any girl before. Ever. It's not some casual thing with me. I'm like my dad—I'm faithful to one woman at a time. It's a Snape thing, I guess. Dad said those word to only two women in his life, and both times he meant them with all of his heart. It's the same with me." He rose and came over to her, cupping her face inbetween his hands, they were long enough now for him to do so. "When I say I love you, I mean I will love you forever, no matter who fancies me or what anybody says about suitable or unsuitable. I will love you when I'm old and bald and you're fat and grey and all we can do is hold hands in two rockers on the porch. I'll love you asleep and awake and anywhere inbetween because that's how it should be, and nothing will ever change that. Not rotten reporters, not stupid crushes from my best friend's sister, not even my family. You are the one for me, Katie Bell. I will love you till the day we die, and maybe after that too."

With that, he kissed her, and he allowed all of his pent-up emotions to explode through him, channeling all of his anger and frustration, passion and desire into a single kiss. He was fierce and gentle and seductive all at once, showing her without words, irrefutably, just how much he loved her.

It blew her away. All of her defense crumbled, all of her wretched insecurity dissolved beneath that single kiss—that reaffirmation of hope and love and trust.

For one instant, she was breathless and unable to respond, her emotions roused to a fever pitch. The next she had her arms about him and was kissing him back with equal fervor. "Harry . . .God . . .I do love you . . .too much . . .couldn't stand the thought that you might not love me like that . . .or that she might win you away from me . . .sweet Merlin . . ." He stole her breath with another kiss and then another, each one leaving an indelible mark upon her heart. She felt lightheaded and at the same time hyper aware of him and of herself as she had never been before. And then she knew that he truly loved her, for no boy could kiss this way unless he truly, madly, deeply, loved the one he was with.

She had been a fool. A terrified jealous idiot. She had almost ruined the best thing in her life. Tears spilled from her eyes again and she whispered regretfully, "Oh, Merlin, Harry . . .I've been so stupid . . .I could just hit myself . . .how can you ever forgive me . . ."

"Hey, join the club. I'm the star member, seeing as I do one stupid thing a day, or least it seems that way sometimes. Just ask Draco. Or my dad. Or Hermione. They'll tell you. It happens. Forget about it, or at least don't be so hard on yourself. There's no such thing as perfect. Just accept it and go on. My dad always said to me, we were born to make mistakes, and the smart ones learn from them and the dunderheads keep making them. Make the right choice. And never forget one thing—I love you."

"I love you too. And I really don't deserve you."

"Stop," he ordered. "You do deserve me. Don't be a dunderhead, Bell."

She managed smile. "Okay. I'll try. You really are amazing, Harry Snape. I never knew you could kiss like that."

He shrugged. "Hey, I try." Then he added softly, "But only with you, my Katie."

"Damn straight. I won't even ask where you learned to kiss like that."

Harry grinned, a classic Snape smirk. "It's born in me. Just ask Sarai."

"Harry!" She swatted him playfully on the arm.

"What?" he looked all innocent. "It'll give you something to talk about."

"_Harry Snape!_" Then she burst out laughing, unable to help herself. She laughed until she cried and then she sobbed all over him. "I'm sorry . . .so sorry . . ."

He hugged her to him and then he whispered into her ear, "You apologize once more and I'm kissing you senseless."

"Do it."

"I would, but then I'd have to explain to your parents why you asphyxiated."

She stopped crying. For long moments she remained in his arms, listening to him breathe and his heart beating. His large, understanding, forgiving heart, that had reserved a special place within just for her, even when she felt she did not deserve it. "That would be kind of awkward. But just think about what it would do to your reputation as a ladies man," she teased.

"I could give a damn about my reputation," he growled. "Being famous sucks. All I want is to be ordinary and to live my own life with you and my family. After I kick Moldy Heart's arse, I'm going to return to Prince Manor and stay there."

"What about school?"

"After that." He amended.

"And after we give Ginny a piece of our mind," she said, her eyes stormy.

"Katie . . .I don't think she realized what she was doing."

"Harry, Merlin have mercy! You don't kiss a guy on the mouth and _not_ know what you're doing. Unless you're drunk or ensorcelled. And she wasn't any of those things. She knew what she was about."

Harry considered that for several long moments, reflecting on that night in front of the portrait hole. "You're right. It was no accident. We can talk—or I can talk to her after breakfast."

He looked up at the clock on the wall. It was nearly nine.

As if on cue, the door swung open and Severus peered inside, hoping there wasn't blood splattered all over or missing limbs, they created such a mess and gave the house elves fits. "Still breathing, I see. Praise Merlin."

The two teenagers started and then gave him sheepish looks.

"I trust you've worked out your differences?"

"Yes, sir," they chorused.

"Good, because my other alternative was going to be banging your heads together," he said dryly. "I believe breakfast is being served in the hall. Why don't we all go down there? I have a feeling there will be several announcements of note this morning."

"About the tournament?" asked Katie.

"You'll never know if you keep standing here twiddling your thumbs, Miss Bell."

The two followed him up the stairs.

When they entered, Draco gave Harry a questioning look and Harry gave him a broad grin and a thumbs-up sign. He took his seat and Katie sat next to him.

Ron gaped at him and Hermione smiled, pleased that they were finally speaking to each other again.

There was a flutter of wings and the owls descended with the morning post.

Nearly all the students and some of the professors in the hall grabbed for their copies of the Prophet, eager to read about the hot new gossip of the day. Harry gently took his from Frost, and saw in one quick glance his father receiving his own copy from Phantom at the staff table. Harry untied the string and heaved a sigh that seemed to come from his shoes. _Wonder what new lies Skeeter the bitch has come up with?_

He quickly scanned the paper and located Skeeter's column.

He almost fell over backwards onto the floor, along with several of his Housemates.

For there, in black and white, was the words, _A Case of Mistaken Misrepresentation_ followed by an entire article retracting the previous ones that had Harry betraying Katie for the love of Ginny Weasley.

_The source I was using was mistaken and corrupted, and fed me false information, leading me to draw unfair conclusions about Harry Snape's integrity and intentions towards both Miss Bell and Miss Weasley. It is with deepest regret that I tell you all to disregard my columns of the previous two weeks ago and a month ago, at the time I thought my source trustworthy, but have since discovered that I was lied to and Harry Snape is deeply in love with Katie Bell and has no plans to throw her over for Ginny Weasley, whom he thinks of as a sister. My apologies to all._

The byline where Rita's portrait was usually smiling and waving, instead featured a woman with a dunce's cap on her head.

Muttering and whispers and the occasional whoop of glee went around the hall, and Harry exchanged smirks with all of his friends and thought about how wonderful it was to have a vampire in the family. Phil had certainly done his job well.

Suddenly there came the sound of someone clearing her throat very loudly, and all the muttering ceased and the students turned around.

There at the lectern in front of the table was Rita Skeeter herself, dressed not in her normal bottle green suit, but a simple tan brocade, looking as if she'd swallowed a ton of pickled herring. "I . . .would like to make an announcement before . . .before everyone tucks in to their breakfast." She turned and focused on Harry, giving him a sickly sort of smile.

Harry thought she had indigestion before he realized that was how Rita looked trying to smile sincerely.

"I would like to extend to Mr. Harry Snape and Miss Katie Bell my deepest apologies," Rita began, her words sounding stilted and strange, and Harry would have bet his life that this was the first time she had ever apologized to anyone about one of her belittling stories. "I should have been more careful about checking the . . .reliability of my sources. It was grave error and I am sorry if it caused either of you problems. I . . promise it will not happen again." She stared off abruptly into space, across the hall to a dark shadowed corner, paled and then gulped hard.

Harry glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw Phil standing there. The vampire winked at him before veiling himself again. Harry nearly cracked up laughing. He was sure that Rita had not seen Phil winking.

_*Nay, she saw him with his fangs bared, ready to take a bite out of her, the foul false-tongued informer,*_ Smidgen sent into his head. The little shimmerling appeared suddenly upon his shoulder, curling up atop him with her tail neatly about her paws, her green eyes awhirl with mischief.

_Smidgen! What have you been up to? I hardly see you anymore unless it's at night._

_*I have been following yon great sourpuss face around,*_ answered the fae cat, grooming herself. She indicated the tall Karkaroff with a jerk of her wing. _*Trying to see if he reports back to anyone. But so far all he's done is moan and whine to Mad Eye about how Krum is failing to live up to his expectations and how much he detests Severus for finding a way to cheat the Cup of Wonders and put you into the tournament. He believes that without you, Krum would dominate everyone else.*_

_He's cracked. Cedric has outscored Krum in all the challenges so far._

_*No one ever said wizards had sense. He's blinded by arrogance and that makes him a first class idiot.*_ Smidgen sniffed. Then she began to purr. _*But oh—am I glad not to have missed this—the humbling of the Poison Pen! Thank your ancestors, Harry, that Philip was able to convince her to apologize and take back what she said. I wish I had been there to see it!*_

Harry nodded, his green eyes dancing. He did also. Normally he wouldn't have taken any pleasure in seeing someone scared to death, but Skeeter had almost wrecked everything with Katie and he found that there was a small corner of his heart that felt justified in Rita getting what was due her for all of her scheming and lying.

"See, I knew she was full of it!" crowed Ron.

"She's always full of it," said the twins. They looked at their baby sister. "Right, Gin?"

Ginny nodded, looking down at her plate. She did not look happy.

"So, you two an item again?" asked Angelina kindly.

"Now and always," answered her friend and she put an arm about Harry and hugged him.

The Quidditch team cheered and so did Ron and Hermione and Draco. Ginny managed a weak smile and after breakfast, she slipped away from the table.

Harry nudged Katie and muttered, "Should we?"

"Yes. Come on."

They followed her quietly.

She went out to one of the flat rocks near Hagrid's hut and sat there, staring out at the big man's pumpkin patch.

"Hey, Ginny." Harry called.

She jerked up and said angrily, "Go away, Harry. I don't want to talk to you."

"Why not?" Katie demanded sharply. "Because you'd rather kiss him instead?"

Ginny flushed. "I shouldn't have done that. But it just . . .happened."

"Make sure it doesn't happen again." Katie warned.

"Okay! I'm sorry if I think he's hot!" Ginny snapped.

"Stop it!" Harry ordered. "We didn't come out here to fight with you, Ginny. We just wanted to make sure that you understood that I . . .what you want from me can't ever be," he said awkwardly. "I care for you and I love you, but not like I love Katie. You're like a little sister to me. Sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear, but it's the truth. She's the one for me, Gin. I love her and she loves me."

"Hooray for you. I get it, Snape. Now leave me alone!" she cried, and then she jumped off the boulder and ran down the path to Hagrid's cottage.

Harry started to go after her, but Katie grabbed the sleeve of his robe. "Harry, don't. Let her have her pride."

"I wish I didn't have to hurt her like that."

"Harry, it had to be said. And better you than me. Sometimes doing what's right hurts. And so does breaking up with your first crush." Katie consoled him. "She'll get over it."

"Yeah." He still felt bad for hurting her though. But what was done, was done. At least it was a clean break. He took Katie's arm and together they walked back to the castle, their relationship patched and scarred, but whole once more.

**Hope you all liked this one. Thanks for all your support, it keeps me writing! :) I have 940 reviews so far for this fic--whoo-hoo! Let's see if we can't reach 1000!**


	29. Darkness Rising

**29**

**Darkness Rising**

At the end of May, Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman called the four champions together in the small room just off the Entrance Hall and revealed to them the third task, which was to take place in the evening upon June 24th. It was the final and hardest task of the tournament and it was also the one that they were allowed to invite their parents and/or other family members to if they so wished. Harry's immediate family was already there, but he decided to ask Phil if Julie and the twins would like to be there to cheer him on as well. They could sit with Hermione, Ron, Draco, and Katie—all of whom would know about the vampire family. He would have asked Sarai as well, but Smidgen had told him the Captain of the Royal Guard would not likely get time off again till much later in the summer, after Titania had her Midsummer Revel, during the summer solstice. The solstice was, unfortunately, after the last task, according to the shimmerling.

The four champions stood at attention while Bagman and Crouch explained the final and most formidable task of the tournament. "It's the last task, you see, and therefore the most challenging," Bagman began, smiling a little. "It's kind of based off Greek mythology and the trials of knighthood long ago. We, Barty and I, like to call it the Gauntlet of the Labyrinth. You all know about Theseus and the Minotaur, right? How the Minotaur was placed in an underground maze and Theseus had to go and fight it? Well, this is similar, although the maze won't be underground, but a hedge maze that shifts and moves, and there is only one right path to get to the prize, which is the Triwizard Cup."

"Inside the maze will be the gauntlet—like the knights of old, you'll have to run a series of obstacles and defeat a series of monsters, but while a knight faced martial challenges, you'll face magical ones," Crouch explained calmly. "Take heed, these challenges are unlike those you've faced before-they will require wits and magical strength and above all—fortitude. The previous challenges were designed to test your body and mind, this last one shall test your heart. Only if you can find the correct path and defeat the things upon it will you come to the end of the labyrinth and win the Cup. Also, you are timed, you have two hours to find your way through, or be disqualified. We shall give you a spell to cast if you are too badly injured or weakened to continue, it's called a Flare Charm—using it will shoot up red sparks and inform us that you're having major difficulties. The first champion to make it through the maze will be declared the winner and win the entire tournament. Any kind of attempt by a champion to sabotage another will result in disqualification." Here Crouch looked sharply at Krum, who shuffled his feet and looked away.

Fleur raised her hand. "Sir? What sort of things shall we face? Can you give us a . . . hint?" Her English had improved dramatically over the months she had spent at Hogwarts.

Bagman looked pained. "Well . . .there are a lot of different things happening in the maze. Like Barty said, you'll have to use everything you've got to get out. You might face carnivorous Tantagulla, or even a minotaur, possibly some fiery projectiles—yes, the maze itself is trapped at times—some wind haunts and maybe an acromantula or two. My advice is to study really hard all the defensive spells and battle magic you know, as well as some concealment charms. You don't need to stomp everything in order to complete the tournament, you can also outwit things. Cleverness counts just as much as spellcraft."

"We're _timed_?" whined Viktor. "But _vhy_? Isn't it enough that _ve_ are already going to be facing vicious beasts and so forth?"

"You've been timed on all the tasks, Mr. Krum," Crouch reminded him. "This one is no different. We don't want to be here all night waiting for you to find your way through."

"This sucks!" muttered Krum, scowling.

"Spoilsport," Cedric growled.

Harry nodded then he ignored the other's grumbling. He was going to have to get some more training sessions since this was going to be a doozy of a fight. He hoped that Uncle Phil and Severus could give him some more pointers. Forewarned was forearmed.

Later that evening, Cafall discovered a confused Mr. Crouch wandering about the grounds. The wizard did not seem to recognize the misthound and Cafall could sense magic used upon the wizard, and he wrinkled his nose and growled, for the dark taint was unmistakable. The misthound, far more intelligent than a dog, rushed back to bring Harry and Draco to the scene.

Cafall reached the two, who were tossing a Quaffle back and forth and hovering on their brooms, and went into a barking frenzy.

"What's up with him?" asked Draco. "He's gone loony."

Harry peered down at the distressed misthound. "Something's not right. I've never seen him like this." He landed. "Cafall! What is it, boy?"

The dog went insane, whining and barking, jumping up on Harry and grabbing the sleeve of his robe and pulling.

"Looks like he wants to play," Draco said. "Get your sleeve out of his mouth before he tears it."

"No, this isn't how he plays," Harry said, more familiar with the dog's behavior since he spent more time with Cafall. "Release, Cafall!" He commanded, and the dog let his sleeve go, but continued to whine and walk a few steps and then look back and bark urgently. "Seems like he wants to show us something. Cafall, hunt!"

The misthound tore off, howling eerily.

Harry and Draco followed on their brooms, the dog was running like the wind.

At first, Cafall had to find the wandering wizard again, because Crouch hadn't remained in one spot, but the dog's nose was bred to chase magical game and it was no trouble for him to find Crouch. Cafall frisked up to the confused wizard and bayed happily, letting his young masters know he had treed his quarry. The bell-like sound echoed across the grounds and brought Smidgen to see what the misthound had discovered as well.

"Why, it's Mr. Crouch!" exclaimed Harry.

Draco peered at him. The wizard's face was slack and his eyes were not at all normal. "Sir? Are you all right?"

"Huh? What? Where am I? Who are you?" Crouch asked, his blue eyes were puzzled.

"Don't you recognize us?" Harry asked. "It's me, Harry Snape, and my brother, Draco."

_*I believe he's under some kind of enchantment,*_ Smidgen sent, fluttering over the tall wizard. _* A spell of forgetting, perhaps.*_

"You mean a Memory Charm?" Draco queried.

"Why would someone do that?" Harry scowled.

_*Someone with something to hide. Perhaps Mr. Crouch saw something he shouldn't have.*_ Surmised the fae cat.

"We'd better get him back to the school. He could hurt himself out here." Harry said. "Uh, sir? We're here to help you, so could you please come with us?" He gently took the austere wizard's arm.

"I . . .where am I?"

"You're at Hogwarts," Draco replied, taking his other arm. "You're overseeing the Triwizard Tournament."

"I . . .am? How . . .extraordinary!"

Together the two boys and the dog led the head of Magical Cooperation back to the school. They dropped him off at Dumbledore's office, and the Headmaster promised to have the curse removed and see if Crouch recalled anything of who had cast it. That was highly unlikely, though, because that would have been the first thing the wizard would have been meant to forget.

"Don't worry, boys. I'll have everything set to right." Dumbledore reassured them. "Go on, go back to your common rooms." He waved them away. Then he turned to the stricken Crouch. "Now, Barty, let me see if I can restore you to yourself. . ."

The two brothers hurried down the stairs to the dungeons, where they told their father and uncle what had occurred.

The vampire frowned. "There is something going on here that makes me uneasy. Someone is hiding something and I intend to find out what it is."

"Might I suggest you start with Igor?" said Severus.

"I have watched him before and found nothing out of the ordinary." Phil mused. "Still, I might not have caught him out yet."

"You could also keep an eye on Professor Moody," Draco spoke up. "He's been behaving kind of . . .oddly."

"In what way?" Severus demanded.

"Well, he's been sort of . . .distracted lately. And he's been emphasizing more curses than countercurses."

"Hmmm . . .while it is true it's important to study curses so you know how to counter them, the emphasis should be upon how to avoid them, not how to cast them," Severus told his sons.

"I shall seek him out as well." Philip said.

"Uncle Phil, while we're still on the subject of the tournament, Bagman said that for the last task we could invite family members and I was thinking . . .would it be okay if I invited Aunt Julie and the twins?"

Phil looked startled. "Why, yes, they would probably enjoy it. That's very thoughtful of you, Harry."

"I'll send them a letter soon," Harry said.

"And we'll begin practicing tomorrow night," his father said. "You'll need all the practice you can get."

"Yeah, I know." Harry said. "Will Draco be joining us?"

"If he wishes. For _kin-sa-dor_ especially."

"I do. If I don't start practicing again, I'm going to lose my form," Draco said.

Dumbledore managed to restore Crouch to himself, though he did not regain all of his memories. He could not identify his attacker, saying that whoever had attacked him had done so from behind and so he never saw the person's face. "I was walking along, thinking, and suddenly . . .I was struck . . .and then I knew nothing . . ."

The incident was very disturbing, but as yet there was nothing anyone could do, except to be cautious where they went alone.

Harry and Draco were practicing combat techniques with Severus and Phil in the Room of Requirement every free moment they had. There was no telling just what the gauntlet would have in it, and so Harry was being prepared to deflect almost anything and also to study up on various ways to defeat magical creatures like a minotaur. Hermione and Katie helped by doing research upon carnivorous plants and animals. Ron assisted by being another target for them to duel, and picked up pointers as well on Defense that weren't covered in DADA class.

Otherwise it was classes as usual, though Trelawney did begin her usual prediction of dire things about to commence, especially when she read Harry's horoscope. It was on one of those days, when they were supposed to be deciphering tea leaves, that Harry fell asleep and had a strange dream about Voldemort.

In it he dreamed that the Dark Lord was indoctrinating one of his followers, a wispy haired skinny youth with bad acne that looked about sixteen or seventeen. He looked vaguely familiar and eagerly accepted the pain that came with the Dark Mark.

"I will serve you forever, Master!" exclaimed the youth, a worshipful and insane look in his eyes. "Even unto death! I shall be true!"

And Voldemort smiled, a terrible smile, and patted the boy on the head. "You shall be my hound, boy. And when I send you to hunt down traitors, you shall show them no mercy."

"Yes, my Lord! Anything!" The boy knelt and kissed the hem of the dark robe, while beyond Harry saw several other robed figures, including Lucius Malfoy and Igor Karkaroff.

"Anything?" purred Voldemort. "Would you, for instance, kill a friend if I so ordered?"

"I would!"

"How about a dear family member?"

"If you told me they had committed a crime against you, then yes! I would kill my own mother!"

Harry shuddered then, his stomach turning over at the madness in the other's face.

"Very good, my pet!" Again he caressed the boy's head. "You shall serve me well." He lifted his arms then. "Behold, my faithful! Here is my Hound! Welcome your brother into our company!"

The other Death Eaters clapped as ordered, though Harry could see jealousy upon some faces, especially Bellatrix and Wormtail.

Abruptly, Harry felt his shoulder shaken and he woke.

"Hey, mate! Wake up!" It was Ron.

"What happened?" Harry felt muzzy and his scar ached.

"Fell asleep. Not that I blame you." Ron whispered. "I wrote down the homework for you." He handed Harry a piece of parchment. "You okay? You look sort of out of it."

"I feel like that. I had a weird dream." Harry said. He found he didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to alarm Ron. But at the same time he felt that he needed to talk to someone, and his father was still teaching and Phil was spying on Moody.

As they were leaving the tower, Harry got an idea. "Go on to lunch, Ron. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Where are you going?"

"To talk to the Headmaster. I need to ask him something."

"Now?"

"Yes. Go on ahead." Harry waved him off and headed towards the gargoyle.

In a few minutes he was upstairs in the Headmaster's office, and speaking to the old wizard about his odd dream. "And I don't know why, but I kind of got the feeling that it wasn't just a dream . . .that it really happened. And I was wondering if you knew who that kid was . . .the one who was so happy to become a Death Eater?"

"Ah." The old wizard looked grave. "I do know him, but before I answer that question, I think you need to take a look at something." He moved over to a small cabinet that rested behind the door. Opening it, he took out a round stone basin with odd runes carved in the sides. "This, Harry, is a Pensieve."

"What is it?"

"It stores memories of mine that I find are difficult to deal with or that need closer examination. Using it, I can re-examine individual memories and share them with others. Pensieve memories are sometimes used as evidence in Ministry trials."

Harry peered into the bowl. There was a silvery liquid swirling around and around.

"Here. There is one particular memory I wish you to see . . ." Dumbledore said, and then he showed Harry how to put his face into the bowl and when Harry did so he was falling through the air . . .

After about five minutes, Harry emerged from the Pensieve, which had shown him several trials of former convicted Death Eaters, including Karkaroff and the wispy boy, who turned out to be Barty Crouch's son.

"He condemned his own _son_ to Azkaban?" Harry said, incredulous. "I mean, I know the kid was loony and stuff, but that was his son."

"Yes, but Barty was always a stickler for the law and believed unconditionally that no one was above it. When he discovered that his son had a hand in the torture of the Longbottoms, he had no choice but to convict him. I don't think, however, that he ever recovered from it. I do know that his son later died in prison and his wife followed soon after. A terrible tragedy. Barty was running for Minister, and he resigned because he felt he was unfit for the position and many people found him too harsh when he condemned his own child to Azkaban. Poor Barty! I truly think he tore himself apart giving that conviction, but if he hadn't . . .it's a sad tale."

Harry shuddered. Now he could understand better where the kid got his fanaticism from. He couldn't imagine his own father ever condemning him to such a fate. _No, Dad would kick my arse to kingdom come himself, but he'd never chuck me in prison. _"What about Karkaroff?"

"As you saw, Igor turned informer in exchange for staying out of Azkaban. Since then he has never been connected with any of the former Death Eaters still free."

"Like Lucius Malfoy."

"Precisely. Does your scar still hurt?"

"No, sir. Not anymore." He touched it absently. "Why am I having these weird visions?"

"Perhaps you are overtired? I am not certain."

Harry frowned. Or perhaps the vision was a warning, but a warning of what? A Death Eater who had been dead for over thirteen years? How would that help him?

"Oh. Well, thanks for showing me that. I guess I understand better now why Mr. Crouch is so . . .uptight and so depressed sometimes."

"Yes, he has fits of melancholy, and I think that is why he dismissed his house elf. He is a proud man and did not wish to have anyone witness his loss of control . . ." Dumbledore sighed again.

Harry nodded. He felt sorry for Crouch, but he wondered about Karkaroff. The tall wizard had sang like a canary back then, but that didn't mean he hadn't gone back to his old ways in the meantime. Phil was right to keep watch over him. Harry didn't like or trust him or the Durmstrang champion.

He returned to eat lunch with Ron and Hermione, who was trying to drum up support for her new "Free the Elves" campaign, asking other Gryffindors if they had house elves and how they felt about them.

"I'm doing a survey," she told Harry. "Seeing how many people have elves and who don't and why." She pointed to a clipboard where she had jotted down the names of their Housemates.

"Oh. Good luck." Harry said, then he began to eat.

That night he told Severus and Draco what had gone on and Severus said to write down any other strange visions he happened to have about Voldemort and tell him immediately. "Send Smidgen with a letter or Frost or Hedwig. The Prince line has been known to produce a few bona fide Seers, and if these are prescient visions, of the past or the present . . ."

"You never told me that, Dad. I thought you thought it was all a bunch of bull, Divination."

"I think Trelawney is a fraud, and the way she teaches class a waste of time, but a true Seer with the Gift is something else again. A true Seer is very rare however, and they are born, not taught." Severus answered.

"Could I be one?"

"It's possible. But I have never displayed the Gift and thus am unsure how it expresses or when. We'll have to wait and see and perhaps when this term is over, we can speak with Sarai, I am sure there are Seers in the Faerie Queen's court who can test you for potential."

Harry was sure there were. What he wasn't sure of was whether or not he wished to have another weird ability to deal with, like he did Parseltongue. He had enough to deal with already.

May slid into June and Harry found himself preoccupied with studying for finals along with his other friends and Draco as well as attending the extra practice sessions. Severus monitored all of them when they were studying, but especially Hermione. Long after Harry, Draco, and Ron had enough of studying, Hermione was still going strong. That was when Severus came over and shut her Arithmancy book and said firmly, "That's enough for one evening, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked up at him in dismay. "But—but Professor, I just have to re-read the last chapter—"

"No, Miss Granger. Three and a half hours is plenty of time for this evening. Put your books away."

To Harry and Ron's shock, she flashed Snape a mutinous scowl. "Sir, I'm perfectly capable of finishing this."

He frowned down at her. "That's as may be, but you will not be doing it tonight, am I clear? No, not another word. Remember our agreement? I will not have you stressing yourself out unduly. This is a mere test, not life and death. Your mind needs relaxation." He folded his arms over his chest. Unlike most teachers, Severus did not need to raise his voice in order to convey displeasure, disappointment, or maintain order. He spoke in a firm and stern tone and despite her irritation, Hermione found herself obeying.

She put away her books and joined Draco, Harry, and Ron at the table in the Snape quarters, where they were starting a game of Dragon's Wild. They used candy in place of coins and even Hermione enjoyed the game.

Draco put his arm around her. "Don't look like that," he whispered in her ear. "You know he was right, don't you?"

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," she grumbled.

He chuckled. "You remind me of me, whenever Dad told me I couldn't do something."

She blushed. "Are you saying I'm acting childish?"

"Not in so many words," her boyfriend said.

"I am, aren't I?" she looked down at her hands. "All right. He means well." She picked up her hand and examined it.

Draco withdrew so he could play his own cards, and the friends spent the rest of the night playing cards and swapping embarrassing stories while Snape graded papers.

As the end of June approached, things grew even more intense between the four champions. Fleur was studying with Hagrid and Madame Maxime on how to defend against magical creatures and plants, Cedric was boning up on his agility and reflexes by playing a special form of Quidditch with seven Bludgers. And Krum was studying other darker things with his mentor, Igor Karkaroff.

Phil discovered this one afternoon while he lingered upon the Durmstrang ship. He had long ago learned that the Durmstrang Institute was a school that followed old and darker ways than Beauxbatons and Hogwarts. Karkaroff, former Death Eater, favored competitiveness among his students and punished failure harshly, with whippings and starvation and sometimes curses. Students feared more than respected him and the Dark Arts was taught at this academy. It was also an all make school, austere, martial, and set high in an unknown frost-rimed mountain range, with arctic lakes, and almost no contact with the outside world.

Thus Phil was not surprised to hear Karkaroff giving his champion a vicious tongue-lashing after he had twice failed to come in first or second during the tasks given. "Twice you have failed and dishonored not only the reputation of this school, but my own as well as your mentor and Headmaster!" Karkaroff raged.

"Forgive me, Master. I shall try harder." Krum whined, no longer the cocky Seeker.

"Do more than **try**, Viktor! Succeed! You are lucky I have not caned you for your previous failures. Were you anyone else . . ." Karkaroff snarled. "Now, attend! This task shall be the one that will truly test your talents and those of your companions. I know for a fact that none of the others except perhaps Snape's whelp can match you when it comes to dueling. I want you to take them out, one by one, do you understand?"

"Yes, but . . .I can be disqualified if I do that, sir."

Karkaroff raised a hand and slapped the younger wizard across the face. "No backtalk, boy! You use your head and you won't get caught! No more playing by the rules as they know them. Make your own rules—win at any cost! Use curses if necessary, but make sure you make it through the maze and the obstacles on time and are the only one standing in front of that cup. This _must _be a Durmstrang victory! Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy! Win and you'll be famous beyond your wildest imaginings, more famous than you are right now as Bulgaria's Seeker. Lose and you will be expelled—after I've beaten you to within an inch of your life."

Krum shuddered. Apparently he both feared and worshipped his dark mentor.

Philip bared his fangs. He had known that Karkaroff was both a bully and a coward, and was not surprised that he was encouraging his student to cheat in the tournament. That was exactly his style. Nor was he shocked to find that Karkaroff used threats of dire punishment to keep his star pupil in line. Phil had known many an armsmaster to do the same at his father's fife. The life and training of a future knight was often harsh and unforgiving.

The vampire was tempted to burst in and accuse them, expose them for the lying dishonorable cheating scum they were, but then he got an even better idea. He smirked, showing all of his fangs. No, he would let them become hoist upon their own petard. He would inform Severus and Harry about Karkaroff's plan and watch Karkaroff's pasty face crumble when he saw that Harry had beaten Krum to the cup. That would be worth all the gold in Gringotts. _Cheaters never prosper, fools!_

Then he glided away, unseen and undetected by even Karkaroff's wards.

Severus too was not surprised by his old acquaintance's tactics. "I half-expected him to do something of the sort, he's always been a sneak and cheat. He takes the easiest path possible, which was why he joined the Dark One in the first place. And while I don't mind giving him a taste of his own medicine, I think we ought to do something about protecting Krum. Much as I don't like the boy, I don't want to see him abused either. And Igor is just petty and mean enough to do what he threatened."

"But what can we do about it? He's not our student, we won't even see him again once the tournament's over."

"Perhaps we might put a Reverse Violence Charm on him before the ship sails," mused the Potions Master. "It's better than doing nothing."

"Since when are you the savior of abused boys, Sev?"

"Since I adopted Draco and found my son," Severus replied matter-of-factly. "No, before that. If I found a student who showed signs of abuse, I investigated it and helped when I could. Anonymously, sometimes. I lived through that horror, Phil. I will not permit anyone else to do so, if I can prevent it."

"Very well. I supposed it's Christian charity to save the brat's hide. Though from what I see of him, he's not deserving of much." The vampire said cynically.

"Thank you for the warning." Severus said. "I shall tell Harry and Cedric to be on their guard. And Miss Delacouer as well."

"Good. And I shall return to my watcher duties. I have a feeling that Karkaroff's fangs have not all been pulled, and there's something disturbing going on with the Defense Professor as well."

"Mad Eye? He's always been a little off his rocker. He's got plenty of balls and courage though." The Potions Master allowed. "He was once a top Auror."

"Maybe so, but even old soldiers can go bad. I'll keep an eye on him too." Phil said. "But for now, I must beg leave of you, Severus, and hunt."

With that, the vampire vanished and Severus was left staring at an empty space where Phil had been standing. If he hadn't known better, he would have assumed the vampire used magic to disappear. But Phil was no wizard and had only a vampire's superior speed and ability to veil himself from view. But that was formidable enough.

_Karkaroff, better watch your back, you dumb twit. Because the darkness has fangs and it would love to drain you dry._

Finally, it was the week before the third task, and Severus and Phil stopped training Harry so hard and told him to rest and relax. Let the other champions sweat and push themselves to exhaustion trying to cram everything they could into their brains before the task. That kind of strategy would only make them nervous and more prone to forget, become sloppy, and make mistakes. Harry had learned the spells and counters and how to think his way past things all during the long weeks leading up to the third task. Now was the time to be calm and collected and let his brain absorb everything. Besides, as Phil said, it would make his competitors nervous, thinking he was so confident he didn't need to study or so arrogant or stupid to bother. Either way, they would be caught off guard.

So in the days leading up to the tournament, Harry took long walks with Cafall and Draco, played chess with Ron, cards with Hermione (non quiz related), and flew with Katie. He had not gotten to spend much time with his girlfriend due to her schedule and her studying for OWLS. But now that was over and she was free to spend time with her beloved Harry.

After a rather wild flight in and out of the trees on the border of the Forbidden Forest, where Katie proved she was just as good of a flyer, and as much of a daredevil, as Harry, they settled down beneath a small beech tree, and Katie put her head in his lap and let him play with her dark hair.

As he ran his fingers sensuously through her tresses, she smiled up at him and said, "You know what I've been thinking?"

"What?"

"I've been thinking about the summer holiday. I think it'd be nice if you came and visited my house. It's on the ocean, and you could stay for a long weekend or something. You and Draco and Professor Snape. I could take you out on my family's charter boat—teach you how to sail and fish and catch crabs. We could have a crab bake on the beach, it'd be really fun. And you could meet my family. What do you think?"

He smiled dreamily into her aqua eyes. "It sounds . . .absolutely fantastic. Maybe we could do that right after we leave school, or a week after, or something." Right then, just imagining the sun and the sand on the shore made him breathless. He could picture Katie in a bikini and the thoughts he had then were sinfully wicked and very very tempting. "I'm sure Dad wouldn't mind going for a bit. I'll ask him once this whole tournament business is over."

A shadow of fear crossed her face. "Harry, this last task sounds really dangerous. I wish . . .sometimes I wish you'd never had to compete. Because then I wouldn't have to worry about you being killed." A single tear slid down her cheek.

"Hey," he gently stroked her face. "I'll be okay. I survived worse." He tapped his scar meaningfully.

"I know. I just . . .it's just so nerve wracking, standing there and waiting for you to come back or come out alive. I hate not being able to help you."

"You do help me, Katie. Just by being there. Knowing you're there helps me focus, helps me remember that I have to beat whatever I'm fighting, so that I can come back home to you. You give me something to hope for and something to strive for. And that's all the help I need."

He dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers. He meant it to be a quick kiss, a chaste peck, but somehow it ended up becoming deep and hot and stealing the breath from his lungs and setting his blood on fire and making him ache with a terrible desire.

When they at last broke off the kiss, both were flushed and panting and grinning like idiots.

"Merlin, but you kiss like a champion, Snape!"

"God, Katie! I love you. And if you keep kissing me like that . . .I just might forget everything my dad ever taught me about minding my manners."

She raised an eyebrow and shifted until she was sitting up, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I'd test that statement, fly boy, but I don't want to shock some firstie to death. Or get expelled for indecent exposure."

He chuckled. "Yeah. And I already have a reputation to live down." His hand traced her cheek. "But someday . . ."

"I know."

She nestled close and they remained that way for a long time, watching as the sun set and enjoying the feeling of being in each other's arms.

_June 23rd_

_The night before the third task:_

It was nearly three in the morning, though the sun had not yet risen, when Philip took one last patrol of the castle, as was his wont. He discovered that the light was still on in Moody's office, and wondered what could be keeping the Defense professor up at this hour, when normally all good little wizards were snoozing in their beds. _He's not a night owl like myself, so why is he awake at this hour? Planning a surprise for the champions? Or perhaps one champion in particular?_

Veiled, the vampire slipped into the office and discovered Moody wide awake and pacing, holding a strange gilt mirror in one hand. He was speaking softly, so as not to be overheard, but he may as well have been shouting, for the vampire's hearing was as acute as . . .well a bat's.

" . . .everything's in place, Wormtail. Tell the Master that I have enchanted the trophy, it will work as a Portkey and take whoever touches it directly to the graveyard. Yes, of course I will make sure that Snape brat touches it, what kind of an idiot do you think I am? And Krum as well, he ought to be ready to take the Mark by now and we can kill two birds with one stone." Moody gave a low chuckle. "Oh, but I have waited years for this—my revenge against all those fools who put me in Azkaban!" His eyes began to shine queerly, and suddenly he reached up and wrenched out the glass eye . . .revealing a perfectly good eye behind it.

Philip froze.

"Ah! Much better. I tell you, Wormy, it's bloody boring playing this part for days on end, pretending to be that bloody bastard who locked me up! Gah! I hate the taste of that potion. But since the Master needed new eyes and ears here after that skulking bastard Snape betrayed him—may he rot in the bowels of hell—I am here! Anything to serve, right, Peter?" A low laugh followed. "My dear mother gave her life so that I might be free, though she never realized how dear old Dad would treat me—keeping me under house arrest! But he'll get his too. Oh, yes, everyone will pay!"

The vampire's fangs were out, as all the pieces suddenly clicked into place. Draco had been right, and so had his earlier suspicions that Moody was not all he seemed. This was the traitor, Voldemort's spy, disguised with magic, watching and waiting his chance to do harm to Philip's nephew. _Nyx, Goddess of Night! But I shall not let that happen. Not while I still walk the earth. _It was time now to act, and expose the villain for what he was. Phil dropped his veils, his eyes turning red with Hunger.

At that precise moment, however, the false Moody happened to look up at his Foe Glass—the large mirror which reflected enemies coming to attack him from behind, and saw the vampire reflected in it. He whirled, thinking it was someone else.

"Snape!" he spat, his wand out.

"One of them," replied Philip dryly. "You're finished, spy." He smiled toothily.

The false Moody paled. "Vampire!"

"How observant," Phil drawled. "Professor _Moody_. Except you're not Professor Moody, are you? You're a filthy stinking Death Eater, and therefore fair game for me." He moved then, at lightning speed, and was on the other wizard before he could cast anything.

"Agh! No! Karkaroff, help!" shrilled the other, the mirror falling to the floor.

"Who are you?" Philip hissed, his eyes devouring the other's.

"Crouch. My name is Barty Crouch, junior. Why are you doing this? We could be allies . . .my Master would welcome you . . ." babbled the trapped wizard.

Phil bent his head to feed, but did not bite. "I do not serve the dark, though I walk in shadow, mortal! I yet retain my honor and you have threatened my nephew!" Then he sank his fangs into the other's throat.

Unlike popular myth, he did not precisely drink the blood, so much as his fangs drew it up into his system and he absorbed it. It was ecstasy and agony at the same time, and it had been long since he had drunk the life essence of one so dark. He could feel his prey's terror and pain as he fed and it only served to whet his appetite. He could have made the taking of blood peaceful, but for this one, he chose not to. This one had killed and tortured in the name of his dark master, had destroyed innocent children, he could see it in the other's mind as he fed, the blood establishing a brief psychic connection between them.

There came a noise from behind, but by then he was too deep in bloodlust to heed it, he let anger consume him, something he had not done since he was a newly fledged vampire just beginning to understand what he was. His senses detected another heartbeat, rapid and loud, and he started to turn.

Too late.

He felt something sharp pierce him, and then agony exploded in his chest. He looked down, the wizard still slumped in his hands, and saw a wooden crossbow bolt sticking out of his chest. _Staked. I've been . . .staked._

He released Crouch and groped at the bolt, trying to wrest it free, but the agaony was too great. He felt himself sway and then the strength went out of his limbs and he crumpled to the floor.

"I always come prepared," laughed a cold voice above him, as Igor Karkaroff stepped into the room. "There are many vampires near Durmstrang." In his hand was a small handheld crossbow.

"Perfect timing, old friend," gasped Crouch, leaning against the wall. Two bloody pinpricks stood out against his throat. "Is that . . .thing dead?" He accepted the handkerchief Karkaroff handed him and pressed it to the wounds.

"No, but he is . . .immobilized for now," Igor snorted. "Have you never killed a vampire before, young Barty? The stake will keep him frozen, helpless, but then you have to destroy his body."

"Destroy it how? With fire?"

Karkaroff kicked the limp form. "Sometimes. But I prefer the old way. Sunlight. More painful, and he takes longer to die. Who is he?"

Crouch spat. "He says he's a Snape. Figures old Severus would have a vampire in his family tree. He tried to kill me! He heard everything, I was talking with Wormtail when he appeared in the office . . ."

Karkaroff scowled. "You idiot! We must kill him and make sure what he learned remains buried." He flipped the body over. "If he is very old, as I think, then he may have a sunstone in his possession."

"A sunstone?"

"An amulet that will allow him to walk in daylight without harm. Rare, but the old ones usually acquire them after a few centuries." Karkaroff groped about Phil's collar and withdrew the sunstone pendant. "Ah ha! As I thought. Smash this and he will be weakened and the sun shall burn him."

Barty eyed the pendant as his partner yanked it over Phil's head. "How do we do that?"

"Tsk. Tsk. Your education has been rather one sided, hasn't it?" chided the other. "Do you not know the Shattering Charm?" Karkaroff pointed his wand at the sunstone pendant, which lay upon the desk, and spoke three words.

A red beam of light shot out of his wand and when it touched the pendant, it made it explode into a thousand shards instantly.

The vampire upon the floor of the office writhed and groaned as the magic that had protected him from the sun was no more. In spite of his dormant state, he could feel the change in time and knew the sun would rise soon. He was helpless against the life-giving rays now, and while it would not kill him instantly, it would cause him to burn horribly until at last he perished from the pain and need for blood.

"Now what? He seems like he's dying already." There was a note of satisfaction in the fake Moody's voice, as well as shimmering in his eyes.

"No. He needs the sun to truly perish, if he is an old one." Karkaroff disagreed. "Open the curtains over the window there. When the sun rises and shines through, then you'll see some fireworks, all right. We shouldn't have long to wait."

Once Crouch the Younger had done as ordered, the two diabolical wizards sat down to wait, watching the supine vampire eagerly. Had Philip been awake, he would have said the two resembled people watching a witch burning several centuries past, all eager to see a heretic die.

"I'm feeling a bit faint," Crouch muttered. "Must be the blood loss." He moved to his chest of potions and took a Blood Replenisher. "There! That's better! I can't wait to see the deader burn!"

"_Nosferatu! _Abomination!" Igor growled and kicked the helpless vampire again, hearing something crack as he did so.

In twenty minutes the sun shone over the horizon and the first rays of the dawn trickled into the office. Barty and Igor had dragged Philip over near the window and left him there and as the sunlight slipped into the room, he began to burn.

First his skin reddened, like a sunburn, then as the minutes went by, the burn deepened until it was like getting burnt by boiling water, then it began to blacken, as if someone had stuck him into a fire. Tendrils of smoke began to rise from the vampire, and he twitched and whimpered. He could not move much, though he longed to thrash about in agony, and his whole world was filled with fire and a terrible hunger.

"Look! He's going up like a firework!" cheered Crouch Junior, sounding very much like a cruel child watching a bullfight.

Karkaroff grinned nastily, but said nothing, content to simply bear witness to the destruction of the vampire.

After about fifteen minutes, Philip was burned black and ceased to move or twitch.

"Is he dead?"

"No. We must wait till he turns to ash to be sure," Karkaroff said.

"How long will that take?"

"Not too long."

"I'm going to need some more Polyjuice Potion soon, this dose is wearing off." Crouch the Younger sighed. He rose and went to a trunk that had many locks and latches upon it and flipped them rapidly while muttering a countercharm under his breath. Then he tossed the lid open and floated a chained Mad Eye Moody up and cut off a hunk of his hair. The chained wizard growled at him viciously like a dog.

The imposter laughed and patted him on the head. "Good dog, Moody." Then he threw the wizard back down into the bottom of the trunk.

He moved over to the same potions case and took out a vial of disgusting black sludge and added the hair to it and stirred. Then he drained the contents. "Faugh! I will be glad when I no longer have to take that shit and can be myself again." He wiped his mouth, put the hair into the case and shut it. "How's our crispy critter coming? Nicely browned, I hope!"

Before Igor could reply, there came a knock at the door. "Who the bloody hell?" hissed Barty Junior, panicked.

"Alastor? Are you in there? I need to ask you a question?" came the voice of Hogwart's Headmaster.

The two exchanged horrified glances.

"Quick! Put him in the trunk!" Karkaroff cried. "We can finish it later, he's probably gone now anyway."

They picked up the corpse and threw it into the trunk, and the imposter hissed, "Some company for you, Alastor! I hear dead men tell no tales, so fess up!" Then he shut the trunk and locked it.

The knocking came again. "Alastor?"

"Just a minute, Albus." The fake Moody called. He quickly popped in the magical eye and then strode to the door. "Come in, old friend. Igor and I were just going over the final stages of the gauntlet, making sure everything is in place."

"How marvelous." Dumbledore declared. Then he wrinkled his nose. "My goodness, but I smell something burning."

"Ah, that would be me. I was trying to light a candle and my hair caught fire for a moment."

"Ah . . .I have had the same thing happen to me . . .Good morning, Igor, I hope you are feeling well?"

"Yes, Dumbledore, I am fine," said the Headmaster of Durmstrang, putting on a fake smile.

"Excellent! Well, I wanted your opinion on these robes, do they make me look too shabby?"

The two dark wizards both rolled their eyes in tandem.

_Several hours later:_

He was burning . . .burning alive . . .and then . . .cooling darkness . . .darkness that would hide and heal him . . .slowly Philip Anthony Snape returned to consciousness. He had sustained horrible damage that would have killed a made vampire, but because of his nature and age, he was still alive. It was dark, but Phil's vampire eyes could see in perpetual night, and they widened and glowed a deep red.

Next to him he could hear something stir and turned his head to see. A warm reddish outline was revealed to his infravision, and he could hear the steady rapid beat of a human heart. Licking his lips, he said hoarsely, "Who . . .is . . .there? Help . . ."

He heard shuffling and a thump, then a low voice cried, "Good flaming bollocks! You're a talking corpse!"

"No . . .not dead yet . . .help . . ." Philip rasped, feeling his fangs run out. He needed blood badly, the infusion he'd taken from the traitor had not been enough to heal him. not after what had happened. "Crossbow bolt . . ."

"They shot you with a crossbow bolt?"

"Yes . . .need to take it out . . ."

"You want me to take it out? That's dangerous. You could die," objected Alastor.

Philip gave a soft chuckle then moaned. "Just . . .do it . . .I'm halfway gone already . . ." He knew once the stake was removed he could heal quicker and would not be in so much pain.

"How? I can't exactly see."

Phil forced his hand to move, and grasp the other's. He guided Moody's hand to the bolt. "There. Feel it? Now . . .take it out."

Alastor sighed. "All right, but don't blame me if you die. Brace yourself."

Groping, Alastor found the other's chest and put one hand upon it and the other gripped the bolt. Then he pulled in one quick motion.

Phil's back arched and he half-screamed as the bolt slid free. Then he collapsed back onto the floor, panting. He had forgotten how much a stake, or bolt, had hurt.

"You okay?"

"I . . .will . . ." Then Phil lapsed back into unconsciousness.

He woke a little before evening, disorientated and starving. Sleep and the removal of the bolt had helped somewhat, but he was still very weak and his craving for blood was unendurable. He was consumed by the Hunger, it was no longer an annoyance, no longer an impulse to be held in check by strength of will, it was a beast raging out of control, a fire devouring everything in its path. He felt his grip on reality slip, his reason become overwhelmed by his terrible thirst. He held onto his sense of self by the barest of inches, hanging on by his fingernails over the endless abyss.

_I am Lord Philip Anthony Snape. I am Lord Philip Anthony Snape. And I . . .will . . .not . . .be controlled . . .by instinct!_

"Awake, are you? Thought for a minute you were . . ." grunted Alastor.

Philip licked his lips. "No. Not yet. Hard . . .to kill . . ."

Dark wings beat at him, pounding his identity with the relentless force of ocean waves. But Philip had not lived millennia without developing a will of steel. The Hunger was almost beyond the bounds of tolerance, pushing the line between human and beast. But he still had a thimble's worth of control left. He took a breath.

"You . . .might want . . .to move away from me . . ." he warned. "I'm not . . .safe . . ."

"Not safe? You're half dead, boy. And I'm chained up like a mad beast. Can't really move."

Philip shuddered. "Don't . . .understand . . .I'm . . .a vampire . . .and . . .I'm . . . Hungry . . .!" His eyes burned a lurid red in the darkness, glowing like the pits of hell.

Alastor gasped and shrank back as far as he could. "Merlin's arse! So this is how that punk plans to be rid of me!"

Philip gulped hard. "They thought I was dead . . .but a Born Vampire is hard to kill . . ."

He imagined his fangs sinking deep into mortal flesh, drinking deeply of the elixir of life, draining the poison from Hogwarts in a thousand rapturous swallows. He held that image in his mind—of killing Barty Junior—using it like a talisman to ward off the snarling Beast within.

"Born, not made?"

"Yes . . .My name is Philip Anthony Snape . . .and I am not a dark follower . . .I am allied with the Queen of the Seelie Court. . .on a mission to protect my nephew . . . Harry Albus Snape . . ."

"You're Severus Snape's _brother_?"

"No . . .ancestor . . ." Philip sucked in air. The smell of Moody's blood was so tantalizing he could feel himself drooling. He grimaced in disgust. _The mind rules. My mind rules._ "Must warn him . . ."

"Warn him about what?"

Slowly, Philip told him what the two dark wizards had been plotting.

"Took you from behind, eh?" said Alastor sympathetically. "Did the same to me, the bullying coward! Knocked me out with the trash bin lid and when I woke up he was ripping off my hair and took my wooden leg and my eye. Kept me locked up here like an animal, giving me just enough food and air to keep me breathing. What I wouldn't give to wrap my hands about his skinny little neck and snap it! He fooled us all!"

"I could break those chains, if . . .I were stronger . . ." Phil said. "But the sun weakened me . . .and now I need blood . . ."

There was silence after that statement. Then Alastor said quietly, "How much?"

"No . . .not from you . . .I feed only on the evil doer . . ."

"That's a choice though that you don't have now," he pointed out pragmatically.

Phil shook his head. "I will not feed . . .off of you . . .took an oath . . .to never feed upon an innocent . . .for a thousand years I have kept it." He felt the Hunger rising deep in his throat, and he struggled to keep it at bay.

"Listen, Philip. I ain't no innocent, haven't been for a long time. Way I see it, the only way we're gonna get out of here and kick some arse is if we work together. I got something you need . . .and I'm willing to share it with you . . .I ain't too fond of vampires, but . . .the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

Philip hesitated. "I . . .am not sure I can trust myself . . .It's been a long time since I was injured this badly . . .I might take too much . . ."

"Can you do it in stages? I have a little water and some dried beef here to eat."

Philip sighed. He had to get free of this prison and the only way to do that was to take Moody at his word and even though he hated drinking the blood of a decent person, he had no choice. He had to warn Severus and Harry. "Very well. Give me your wrist. You will feel very little . . .it will not be painful . . ."

"You mean, you don't feel like you're dying . . .?"

"Not unless I wish it. All you'll feel is sleepy." Phil accepted the wrist Moody held out. He flipped the arm over, hearing the pulse of Alastor's blood thundering in his ears. Then he lowered his mouth and began to feed.

The blood shot through him like a bolt of supercharged energy and he could feel his tissues start to restore themselves. He drank eagerly, though he did attempt to maintain some semblance of control. After fifteen minutes he wrenched himself away, despite the siren call still screaming in his head. "Alastor? How are you feeling?"

"Tired, a bit. You?"

"Better." Philip said. "Eat something and drink. I shall continue in twenty minutes."

He heard Moody groping and then chewing upon some beef and drinking a beaker of stale water.

Twenty minutes later, Philip resumed feeding. This time the blood had a more obvious effect, and his burnt skin healed before his eyes. His strength returned gradually and the red faded from his eyes, returning them to his normal violet color. It was less of a struggle now to relinquish Alastor's arm.

They repeated the procedure a third time, and by then Philip was nearly back to his old self again.

"I just thought of something. Even if you do bust us out, how can you go out in the sunlight?"

"It's nearly sunset now."

"How do you know that?"

"After so many sunsets . . .I know, Alastor." Philip said dryly. "The sun shall set in twenty-five minutes."

They rested for awhile and then Philip took Moody's chains in his hands and ripped them apart. The links shattered like paper and for the first time in months, Moody was free. But he was weakened from his long captivity as well as the blood donation and could barely stand up.

"The sun is almost down," Philip remarked. "A few more minutes and I can get you out of here. We'll need to hurry, the tournament starts soon."

"Get me out of here and let me get my wand and I'll show that upstart who's the real Moody." Alastor growled.

At that precise moment, the sun set. Phil could feel it in his bones. "Alastor, it's time." He reached for the other wizard and lifted him into his arms. Then he concentrated, and his large black wings grew from his shoulders. With his newfound strength surging through him, Philip launched himself upwards. He hovered in the air just below the trunk lid, holding Alastor in one arm while he smashed through the trunk with the other.

Magic sizzled over him as he shattered the wood, but the spells were designed to affect a human, not a vampire, and Philip ignored it and continued breaking apart the trunk until he emerged from the depths like an avenging angel, his violet eyes bright with the fires of war.

He settled down on the ground, still holding the one-legged wizard. "Alastor, what do you need?"

"Blood Replenisher, maybe a Magical Restorative."

"Stay here." Philip went and began to search the office. He soon located the potion case and found what Alastor needed.

After gulping them down, Alastor Summoned his wand to him, it was in the bottom of the desk, and then he fashioned himself a new leg out of the chair leg and strapped it on. "Okay. Let's go and catch us a skulking little cockroach."

Philip bared his fangs. "With pleasure, Alastor." He flexed his wings. "Care for a ride?"

The old Auror laughed. "Sure you can handle it, Nightwalker?"

"Does a zombie eat brains?"

Moody pulled on a spare cloak to cover his patched and ripped clothing and then Philip lifted him up, kicked out the window, and flew off into the gloaming.

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! **

**Please check out the conclusion of Two Hawks Hunting if you haven't done so, I have finally completed that!**

**Next: The third task occurs. And something else happens to Draco. **


	30. Gauntlet

**30**

**Gauntlet**

_Just before the third task:_

Draco finished potting the Spitfire Snapdragon about fifteen minutes before the third task was scheduled to start. He hadn't realized how late it was when he had offered to help Professor Sprout finish planting these and it was only when the clock in the Great Hall chimed the half-hour that he looked at his watch and saw the time. _Ahh, Merlin's bloody arse! I'm late for the tournament! I hope Hermione saved me a seat._ He quickly washed his hands and dried them and put away his trowel before bolting out of the greenhouse and down the path to the pitch. He could already hear the cheers and jeers from the stadium.

_Damn! Damn! I wonder if 'Mione's sitting with Uncle Phil's family and is Katie also? They probably have arrived by now. Hope the twins haven't scared anybody to death. I mean, I think they're wickedly cute, but not everyone likes little vampires. Of course, Aunt Jewels could always say their teeth were Glamoured._ He hid a smirk and kept running down the path, panting only slightly.

The next instant he slammed into someone a little taller than he was and was knocked to the ground along with the other person.

Draco sucked in a breath, his chest felt tight, and looked up, startled. "Oh . . . Professor Moody . . .sorry, I didn't see you . . ." he wheezed.

"Maybe you ought to get spectacles then, like your foster brother," snapped the professor, climbing unsteadily to his feet. "Clumsy oaf! Don't you know to watch where you're going?"

Draco flushed and slowly got up. He was in a hurry and not in the mood to get lectured by anyone, even a teacher. "It was an accident! I was trying to get to the tournament, sir! I was in the greenhouse all afternoon—"

"Detention with Professor Sprout, eh? Typical."

"I didn't have detention!" snapped Draco, starting to get angry. Moody had had it in for him since the first day of class and he was getting very fed up with the other's unreasonable attitude. "I was doing her a favor!"

"Lying again, Malfoy? Just like your father, you are! Lucius had a silver tongue, especially when it came to preserving his own arse."

"I don't give a damn what he had, Professor. I'm not his son anymore, now why can't you just get off my back about him?"

"You'll always be a Malfoy, boy, no matter if Snape adopts you. A leopard doesn't change his spots."

Draco saw red. "I can be anything I want to be, and I'll thank you to shut the bloody hell up about Lucius Malfoy! Severus Snape is my family now, judge me by my own merit and not who sired me. I'm _not_ Lucius, and never will be, and if you can't see that, maybe _you_ need glasses . . ._sir_!" He spat the honorific, and then turned to stride past the one-eyed professor, fuming. He didn't care if Moody gave him detention for his insolence, all he wanted was to get to the stadium and watch his brother compete.

"You _dare_ lecture me, you impudent little pus-bag?" Moody growled and pointed his wand. "I'll teach you to disrespect me!"

**WHAM!**

Suddenly Draco found himself running on four feet instead of two, twitching a pink nose, and covered in white fur. He stopped short, squeaking sharply. _Ahhh! What happened to me? I've become a . . .ferret!_

He began to run in circles, panicked at finding himself in a new form. He could feel his heart hammering madly and the ferret mind urging him to run for the safety of the nearest tree or bush alongside the path.

"Fitting. A little white vermin," sneered Moody, his one eye whirling. There was an expression on his face that Draco had never seen before. Cold, cruel, and . . . without mercy.

He squeaked in terror and started to run down the path, the ferret mind overwhelming his own good sense.

"Oh, no you don't! I owe you one, whelp!" Moody flicked his wand.

The next thing Ferret Draco knew was that he was flying high in the air. He curled up into a ball instinctively as he fell back down to land hard on the path. The impact jarred all his bones and sent pain stabbing through him. _Oww! That HURT!_

He tried to get to his feet and run, but Moody was devilish quick and bounced him several more times, all around the pathway. Each time the impact hurt more and he became dizzy and disorientated and began shrieking in mortal distress.

"That'll teach you to disrespect a teacher!" Moody was snarling, his eye burning with wrath and a sort of sadistic delight as the ferret's cries grew more frenzied.

_Bounce! Bounce! Bounce!_

Minerva McGonagall was coming down the path at that moment, she was also late, having caught a third-year of her own House smoking an illegal substance in the boys' lavatory. She had promptly removed the offending substance and grounded the boy to his common room and given him a week's worth of detention plus was going to write his parents. As a result, the Deputy Headmistress was not in a very good mood at all.

The ferret's screams grated on her already frazzled nerves and she came to a halt beside Mad Eye and cried, "Alastor, by all that's good on the earth, what are you doing?"

"Huh? Just teaching a no-good little whelp a lesson in manners, Minerva."

He flicked his wand again and the ferret shot into the air and bounced down hard, letting out another pathetic cry.

"Moody . . .is that a _student_?"Minerva went pale. She pulled her wand and gestured, lightning swift, and the ferret transformed back into a very sore and shaking Draco. "Mr. Malfoy!" She whirled on her colleague. "Alastor, we never use magic as a punishment, you great looby! We give detention or speak to their Head of House!"

"That won't do no good, Snape's too soft on the boy . . ."

"Alastor Moody, this is not Durmstrang! We do not terrorize students into good behavior by using our superior magical skills! Surely Dumbledore told you of this when you arrived!"

"He might've mentioned it." Moody shrugged. "The brat deserved it, answering me back that way—"

"Deserved or not, it is forbidden for a teacher to hex a student that way! Do it again and I'll see to it that you're sacked," the Head of Gryffindor roared, sounding like a veritable lioness defending her cub.

Draco climbed shakily to his feet, blinking back tears. He felt as if he had been caned by Lucius for hours and his lip and nose were bloody. He wrapped his arms about his middle, he didn't think anything was broken, but his ribs throbbed like bloody blazes. He would have smiled at the way McGonagall was lighting into Mad Eye, but his mouth hurt too much. He would have never expected such a rousing defense from the Head of Gryffindor for a Slytherin, but then again, McGonagall was fair and what Moody had done was forbidden in the extreme.

He kept one hand about his middle and limped slowly down the path to the stadium, wishing McGonagall would Transfigure Moody into a toilet plunger and unclog all the backed up toilets with him. He mopped his face with the sleeve of his robe and gritted his teeth. Lucius had cast Crucio on him once to see how long he could withstand it and this was almost . . .not quite . . .but almost as bad as that and the spell Pansy had cast upon him.

Every step he took sent new shockwaves of pain through him, but he was determined not to miss the last task of the tournament. He mentally consigned Moody to depths of hell and a thousand Sectumsempras, hurrying as fast as he dared into the stadium, catching sight of Hermione, who was standing up waving a pennant with Harry's initials on it, holding Siren on her shoulder.

He focused on her and it allowed him to move past the pain.

Hermione scanned the crowd of Slytherins opposite her for Draco, her brow creased in a frown of worry. "I don't see Draco anywhere. I wonder where he could be?" she mused to both Julie and Katie, who were seated next to her in the special box reserved for family members and close friends of the champions.

"Didn't he have some kind of project to help out Professor Sprout?" Ron asked from Katie's other side.

"Oh, that's right. He was going to help her pot some Spitting Snapdragons," Hermione said.

"He must have had an awful lot of plants to pot if he's this late. The tournament's about to begin." Katie said, looking anxiously at her boy friend, standing in front of the huge hedge maze.

"Where's Papa?" asked Siren, he was looking all over for Philip, who had promised he would meet them here.

"He's late too," muttered Julie. "Men! And they accuse women of never being on time." The lady vampire was dressed in a flowing green and smoky gray dress that accentuated her small waist and breasts to perfection. Her twins were dressed in matching outfits, black pants and blue shirts with _I Support Snape!_ Buttoms on them. Ron had given them to the boys, he had found a few extra in his robe pocket.

Both small vampires were under strict orders to not show their teeth to anyone, unless they were family or the select group of Harry's friends who knew about what they were. The boys were so excited that they couldn't sit still, and kept jumping all over, screaming, "Go, Harry!" and waving pennants with Gryffindor colors on them.

Suddenly, Setus yelled, "Look, 'Mione! There he is! There's Draco!" His sharp vampire eyes had spotted the Slytherin making his way through the crowd towards their special ringside seats.

Hermione turned, ready to scold her boy friend a little for leaving things till the eleventh hour, and gasped. "Oh, good sweet Merlin! What happened to his _face_?"

"Looks like somebody beat him up," said Setus helpfully. "Maybe that's where Papa is, beating up the bad kid who beat up Draco."

"Papa doesn't beat up kids," Siren said scornfully. "He'd get in trouble."

"Okay, Mr. Smarty-pants. Then maybe he's scaring them to death. Or giving them a good spanking. He's a grown-up, he can spank kids."

Hermione smiled. "I hope whatever he's doing to them, it makes them run and hide under the bed till term is over."

"A black eye, a bloody nose, and a split lip," Julie catalogued all the injuries she could see before Draco even arrived. "I'll need my potions kit. I always carry one with me, because of my wild children. One never knows when one will need to fix a cut or a bruise." She turned to rummage in a medium-sized black Armani purse she carried.

Draco reached them a moment later. "Sorry I'm late. I ran into a problem on my way here."

"Who did that to you?" Hermione demanded, furious.

"Did some nasty big kids beat you up?" asked Siren worriedly.

"Did Papa catch them and beat them up?" Setus demanded.

"What? No, they weren't kids, but I wouldn't mind if he did catch that damn crazy old fart and beat him up," Draco said, trying to answer all the questions at once.

"You mean, a student didn't do this to you?" Hermione exclaimed, horrified. "Then who did?"

"Moody," Draco snapped.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cried.

"_Ron_!" Katie elbowed him in the ribs. "Watch your mouth, there's little kids here."

The Gryffindor blushed and muttered an apology.

"The professor?" Hermione looked as if she were either going to pass out or storm out of the box and attack Mad Eye.

"You know somebody else by that name?" Draco asked.

"Sit down here and let me see those injuries," Julie ordered firmly. She pulled Draco down to sit beside her and opened her potions kit. Both her children grimaced.

Draco's eyes widened as he realized something. "Oh, damn, I'm bleeding near you, my lady."

Julie frowned and tilted his head back, gently wiping his face with a damp cloth. "That's irrelevant. I am not a fledgling, to go into blood rage over a mere cut," she whispered so only he could hear her. "Besides, I have fed recently, so no worries, little dragon." She continued to apply several potions and pastes to him, and in a matter of minutes, his face was healed.

"Draco, _why_ would Professor Moody do something like that?" Hermione persisted.

"Because he's an arse and he has it in for me because of Lucius," Draco replied. "He Transfigured me into a ferret and he . . .bounced me all over the path like a bloody rubber ball. That's how I got this," he gestured at his face.

"That's awful! He ought to be sacked for that," Katie cried.

Julie handed him a vial of a pain reliever and he drank it, knowing it would help with the rest of his bruises and sore ribs.

"Then what happened? Did Pap come and scare him silly?" asked Siren.

"No. McGonagall came and tore into him. She was mad as a soaking wet cat being chased by a dog. I've never seen her like that." Draco answered.

"Good! You ought to report this to Dumbledore, Draco," Hermione said angrily. "No teacher should be allowed to get away with using harmful magic on a student!"

"Don't worry, 'Mione. Once Dad hears about this, Mad Eye will be lucky he can still walk out the gates on his own two feet and not be carried out in a coffin." Draco said grimly. "Stop fretting. I'm fine." He hugged her. "Now let's watch the last task."

They focused their attention upon the field and the four champions.

Down below, Harry looked up from studying the door to the labyrinth, it was made of heavy oak and bound by iron, fingering his shimmerling brooch as he did so. He had decided to wear Severus' Christmas gift to him that evening for luck, since he didn't plan to cheat and call upon the host of the Seelie Court for aid in the tournament. His eyes met his father's, and he saw Severus give him a short nod of approval and a small encouraging smile as well.

He squared his shoulders and faced forward, thinking, _Only one more task and then I am done with this damned tournament. Then I can relax till the end of term and return to Prince Manor at last. _He couldn't wait for the end of school, he missed his home with an ache that was almost physical. His hand clutched the silver medallion he always wore beneath his clothes. He could feel the warmth radiating from it and was filled with a feeling of extreme longing. _Come back. Come back. I am waiting for you. Come back._ He could almost smell the merlinnas ripening on the trees in the orchard, the fae fruit that bloomed only when the heir was in residence. He could almost taste their sweet and tart flavor upon his tongue, he loved them because with each bite they tasted of home, of lazy summer days and starry nights, of comfort and peace, and a promise that he would never be unloved again, for he was the heir and the land and he were one.

He shook his head abruptly. He had to quit dreaming of Prince Manor and concentrate on the task at hand. _Just do it, Snape._ He traced the shimmerling brooch again and forced himself to block everything else out. All he had to do was make it through the gauntlet and the labyrinth. Then it would be over.

Now Bagman was speaking, standing up from his spot upon the judges' platform. "For this last task, ladies and gentlemen, the champions must enter the labyrinth and run a magical gauntlet, they will have two hours to complete the task, and the first one to touch the Triwizard Cup wins the tournament and the prize money. You will not be able to see all of the gauntlet, but some parts will be accessible for your viewing entertainment. Do enjoy watching and rooting for your favorite champion. May the best witch or wizard win!"

A smattering of applause followed that statement.

"Oh, before I forget . . .to make this fair, we have decided that the wizard with the least points coming into this task shall have the opportunity to enter the labyrinth first. Five minutes later, the next champion will follow. So, the order of competition shall be—Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacouer, Cedric Diggory, and Harry Snape."

Bagman waved his wand and the great door to the labyrinth swung open.

"Good luck, all of you! And watch out for minotaurs!"

There was a sprinkling of laughter following that pathetic joke.

Harry didn't laugh. He was recalling Phil's instructions from last night, cautioning him about Krum cheating. _Be careful and always be on your guard. He and his sort like to strike from the shadows. Watch your back._

Harry sighed inwardly. _Great. And now the fairness of the judges work against me, because he'll be in there waiting to ambush me._ Well, there was no help for it now. He was grateful for Phil's warning and he turned to Cedric and Fleur and said, very quietly, after Krum had entered the maze, "Watch your back. I don't trust Krum. He might try something."

Cedric nodded. "I don't trust him either. Thanks for the heads up, Harry."

Fleur bit her lip. "'E is a . . .how do you say . . .snake in the grass?"

"Yeah, but don't be so down on snakes. I like them," Harry said. "He's more of a dirty rat or a lurker—you know those magical creatures with the huge mouths that hide in the shadows and bite you from behind?"

Both of the others nodded. They shook hands and wished each other luck. Harry had the uneasy feeling he was going to need it.

Fleur and Cedric went into the labyrinth next and then it was just Harry, waiting the requisite five minutes before he followed Cedric inside. He was uncertain what to expect and so mentally prepared himself for just about anything. He wished that five minutes didn't seem like five hours.

Finally, Bagman called, "And finally, the fourth Hogwarts champion . . .Harry Albus Snape, who is currently our leader."

Everyone clapped and cheered as Harry walked up to the doorway and stepped through.

Inside the labyrinth all was eerily quiet . . .until he walked a few paces down the very ordinary flagstone path, his wand out, and the door to the labyrinth slammed shut. The booming echoed through the air and suddenly he heard an odd grinding sound, as if some great monster were gnashing its teeth, and he saw the walls of the maze, which were covered with creepers, some of which had pointed teeth, move and shift.

_The walls change and shift,_ he recalled from Bagman's earlier speech back in May. Something screamed further up ahead and Harry shivered, uncertain if it was Fleur or some monster. He continued down the path until he reached a triple fork and then he was uncertain which way to go. Then he got an idea.

He whispered a Four Points spell. "Point me to the Triwizard Cup."

His wand spun about on his hand, then froze, pointing unerringly to the left. "All right. Left it is."

Harry walked down the lefthand path and immediately the walls rumbled and shifted once more, moving to block the path behind him. He glanced back and saw only a creeper covered wall. "Guess that answers _that_ question. Can't go back, only forward."

Abruptly the flagstone path changed to one of soft dirt, and Harry smelled the familiar scent of mulch beneath his sneakers. It reminded him of gardening at Privet Drive or working with Draco in the herb garden at Prince Manor. He ventured a few more feet and then the maze opened up to reveal . . .a huge garden with large cup-like red flowers, all leaning to one side and making an odd buzzing . . .no, snoring . . .sound. Large green and blue butterflies swooped and dove about the snoozing flowers and when Harry looked up he saw an incongruous sun shining overhead.

"Huh?" he said aloud. "It was night, or almost dusk, when I came in here. Surely I haven't been in here that long. This must be an illusion, like the way the ceiling in the Great Hall shows the night sky."

He smelled mulch and the heady scent of flowers. He inhaled deeply of the fragrance and found himself yawning. He rubbed his eyes. _Get a grip, Harry! Now's not the time to take a nap!_ What was wrong with him? He was starting to doze off standing here.

He knelt and examined the flower nearest him. _Merlin's hairy eyeball! No wonder I'm sleepy. These are Sleepy Puff Poppies._ He had worked with them before, making a special Unconscious Elixir along with Severus for the hospital. That elixir was used to keep patients under during operations, and the Sleepy Puff Poppies were an essential ingredient. In order to harvest the poppies, Harry had had to cover his nose and mouth with a large handkerchief and take a mild Stimulant Draft.

Harry gazed out across the field. It looked huge, but he wondered if that too was an illusion. It would have been almost impossible to transplant that many poppies here in so short and amount of time. He knew as well that he would have to walk carefully, because if he stepped upon a poppy, it would wake up and release its sleeping powder.

He dug in his pocket and found a handkerchief, grateful that Katie had insisted he put one there. He enlarged it using a Enlargement charm. Then he wrapped it about his nose and mouth like a bandanna. He took two deep breaths, centering himself. He felt his eyelids start to droop and gave himself a sharp slap to make himself wake up.

His eyes watered from the sting. Then he concentrated upon walking like a shadow, as his _kin-sa-dor_ lessons had taught him. He stepped into the field, dancing lightly through the poppies. _Careful, Snape. Wouldn't want to trip and fall. Just another tiptoe through the tulips._ He shook his head at his own whimsy. _Hell, I must have slapped myself silly._

About a quarter of the way through the field, he felt something stir beneath his shoes, the earth was crackling and moving. He started violently, and jumped away, only to have his sneaker catch a poppy. The poppy "woke up" and opened, releasing a puff of a strong soporific mist.

Harry clamped his hands over his bandanna and tried not to breathe.

The earth suddenly opened a small hole and a slithering Venomous Tantaglia explode out of the dirt and snapped viciously at his ankle.

Harry screamed, but it was muffled by his hands, and jumped back again.

Then he pointed his wand and a spark of fire leaped out and burned the vine to ash.

He carefully started to make his way through the poppies again, tapping himself again on the cheek when he felt himself start to drift.

But no sooner had he gotten halfway across the field, then he felt the earth shudder again, and this time multiple creeping Venemous Tantaglias shot for him, their carnivorous mouths gaping wide.

Harry snarled a curse and ran, trying his best not to waken any of the poppies. He shot Fire Spark spells over his shoulder, to try and make the carnivorous plants slow down or turn about.

Despite his attempts to be careful, he stepped upon a poppy and the resulting jet of mist engulfed him.

He would have been finished then except for the fact that his fae blood made him mostly immune to sleep magic. He managed to shake off the worst of the sleep urging and stumble forward.

He yelled as a Venemous Tantaglia snatched his ankle, but he held still enough to cast a stronger fire spell that burned the hungry plant to ash. The other plants hissed and snarled at him, and he fled, hoping he could make it through.

The final third of the field was upon him, and he was dripping with sweat and longing to take a breath not filled with the smell of poppies. He was almost to then end of the field when more plants popped out of nowhere, hissing and spitting small balls of fire.

"Aww, hell! Not Spitting Snapdragons."

The snapdragons had the heads of dragons, only they were made of flowers, and every fifteen seconds they spit out a puff of smoke and a tiny fireball. All the heads swiveled towards him, and Harry felt like he was in front of an executioner's squad.

He recalled one method to disarm the fiery plants. He began casting an Exinguishing Charm as quickly as he could, aiming with frightening precision at each of the snapdragons.

A jet of water shot out of his wand again and again, smothering the hissing angry flowers. Once he had a large enough hole, he ran for it, making it through the field with only a minute to spare. One of the snapdragons caught his robe as he went by, and singed it.

Then his sneaker touched the opposite end of the path, which suddenly changed into stone.

"Made it! Thank you Merlin!" panted Harry. Thus far he had not seen any signs of the others, and wondered if they were ahead or behind him. He didn't think Viktor would have been able to set up an ambush properly, there was very little cover here. As soon as he was safe, he paused to remove his bandanna and washed his dry mouth out with a little water which he carried in a canteen.

It was then that he saw the body lying next to hedge. He crept over to it, recognized it as Fleur, and then he knelt beside her. She was still breathing, but she was knocked out and therefore disqualified. He was almost certain she was Stunned. He carefully took her wand and cast a Flare Charm, because he needed to call for help, and he couldn't use his own wand or else he might get disqualified.

Red and green and blue sparks shot out and hovered over Fleur.

"Sorry I didn't get to see who it was. Take care."

He carefully drew a small ward circle about her before he left.

Then he felt the maze shift again and when the dust settled he was facing a corridor of polished white marble.

Because it was the only option, Harry walked into it.

This time he felt very cold, and suddenly the corridor started to spin. He shut his eyes and prayed he wouldn't barf. Finally the spinning slowed and he was thrust out into a section of the labyrinth he hadn't seen before. This time the hedge was mostly dead and dying vines all intertwined together and flocks of ravens and crows circled overhead. There were gaps in the hedge and Harry walked very carefully, keeping an eye out for anything like a hand or a wand sticking out through the hedge.

His feet crunched upon something loudly and he swore and looked down.

It looked like he was walking on eggshells, but when he scooped some of the crunching stuff in his hands, he realized that it wasn't anything so innocent as eggshells. It was chips of bone.

"Ugh!" he tossed down the stuff and brushed off his hands.

The ravens began to shriek and then one dived at him. He threw himself flat and rolled, his cloak over his head. The raven shrilled a battle cry and suddenly the whole flock was upon him.

Harry cast a Shield Charm and then he ran for it. "Point me the Triwizard Cup!" he shouted, as the ravens pelted him, their knife like beaks trying to penetrate the hardened air that covered him. Their beady eyes were hard and filled with a terrible hatred.

Harry shuddered, not doubting for an instant that he would be torn to pieces if not for his charm. The wand tugged him onward, and onward he went, ignoring the side passages that opened up and offered him a quicker egress from his winged escort.

Finally he stumbled to a halt, because the corridor ended in a dead end. He nearly screamed in frustration and wondered how the hell the Four Points spell had led him wrong. He turned, forced to face the mocking ravens, and suddenly he had enough of the black doombringers.

He quickly wove an Illusion Charm and set it loose upon them, a huge cat leaping and snarling at them.

The ravens scattered, flying away, and Harry turned back to the wall. _This can't be right. It's got to be a trick. Another illusion._

He felt the wall, it felt solid. But then, that was what an illusion was meant to do, fool your senses. He closed his eyes and reached forward and felt nothing but empty air. He took a breath and kept walking, taking one step and then another. He walked for what seemed like forever, blind, until he felt he had gone far enough.

He opened his eyes and found himself in the marble corridor again. He walked on until he came to another dead end, only this one was a true dead end, since the floor simply stopped and fell away. Harry inched over to the edge and saw a huge pit, the sides covered in bones and moss.

Harry wrinkled his nose, for it reeked of mildew and rotting things. Flies buzzed along the ground. He cast the Four Points spell again, hoping it would not insist he go down into the pit. But it pointed unerringly to the other side.

"Bloody hell!" he checked his watch. An hour had gone by. Alarmed, Harry knew he had to hurry. He looked about to see if there was something that might help him get into the pit.

Nothing. No broom, no way to climb down, it was a sheer drop. About twenty feet, too far to jump without breaking his leg. He could feel the seconds ticking away in his head. _Think, Harry, think! Use your head. What spells do you know that can get you safely down there?_

He tried to relax, tried to recall all the spells he knew. Finally he came up with a simple Featherlight spell that he thought might work. If it didn't . . .he was going to be mighty sorry. But he couldn't just sit here.

He cast the spell, and then he took two steps and jumped off the end of the floor.

He yelled a little as he felt himself falling, but then he stopped as he realized he wasn't falling so much as floating.

He drifted like a feather on the breeze until he landed lightly on the ground, which was spongy and fetid, like a swamp. He lifted his sneaker and grimaced. _Gross! Swamp muck!_ His feet made little sucking sounds as he crossed the pit.

There was a brilliant blue flash and suddenly all the bones upon the sides of the pit reassembled themselves into a legion of skeletons and the earth rippled and reeking zombies with inch long teeth rose from the ground. They took one look at Harry, and their undead eyes glowed with one thing—a poisonous hatred of the living and a desire to rip and tear his beating heart from his chest.

Harry froze. He had been taught by Philip about the various kinds of undead, and one thing remained uppermost in his mind—that the undead were immune to magic. So his wand was useless here. He tucked his wand into his pocket. Now what? He didn't have any holy water or a silver knife or sword.

The skeletons and zombies let out unearthly howls and charged.

There was no more time to think, only to react.

_Remember who you are! You are never defenseless, you know kin-sa-dor._

Now all those endless painful sessions came into play and Harry allowed himself to fall into the battle trance so crucial to a practitioner of the fae martial arts. His eyes became sharper, his balance finer, and he quivered all over as he waited for the undead to come with range.

When the first zombie shuffled forward, he sprang, leading with his right foot.

He slammed into the rotting body and knocked the foul thing down.

Then he spun, his arm going high, as he punched the ribs out of the skeleton on his right. The walking bone collector staggered and banged into another skeleton and they both fell down.

His world narrowed into finding gaps inbetween the rows of undead and breaking through it. He used the dance of shadows to the best of his ability, hitting the zombies with his hardest roundhouse kicks and triple snap punches. He was not holding back, and if he had used such tactics against a living opponent he would have broken bones and inflicted grievous bodily harm.

But the zombies and skeletons were slowed and not destroyed and several of them tore at the young wizard with their razor claws and left long scratches upon his arms, legs, and face.

Still, he persevered. He knew if he slowed or hesitated, they would have him, and he did not wish to be torn to pieces. _Thank you, Uncle Phil, for teaching me how to fight something that's both stronger and quicker than I am, and thank you, Dad, for teaching me how to keep fighting even after I've gotten my arse kicked to hell and back._

He wrenched his thigh free of a skeleton's bony grip, then turned and kicked it right in the teeth.

"Ha! That'll teach you to feel up a stranger."

The skeleton did not reply, for its head was hanging to one side.

Harry continued shoving and pushing his way past the mass of undead, until finally he had reached the other side of the pit, where a rope appeared out of nowhere.

Despite his burning and aching muscles, Harry grasped the rope and climbed.

The zombies and skeletons howled below but he ignored them, ignored the horrible burning in his chest and throat and the stinging from the cuts and slashes from skeletons and zombies fingernails. He climbed and climbed and climbed forever.

Gasping he finally reached the top of the pit and pulled himself up.

He had made it, he thought giddily. He punched the air with his fist and yelled a victory cry.

It was echoed by the hundreds of students watching, as they could see Harry standing there, bloodied but unbowed.

Harry looked up, saw the crowd cheering and waving, he thought he saw his brother, Katie, and the twins as well, and he grinned insolently and waved, before turning back to the infernal labyrinth.

He found himself running through a series of twists and turns that would have baffled a rat, the walls were shifting every other minute, and if not for the Four Points spell he would have been completely lost. The spell drew him forward relentlessly and he dealt with several more traps before he came to a large forest.

As he made his way through the trees, he saw flickering red lights and heard shouts up ahead. He felt instinctively that this was not part of the challenge, this was probably Krum trying to take out another of his rivals. Wand in hand, Harry sprinted through the trees, which seemed to part and move aside for him.

Sure enough, as he grew closer to the altercation, he could make out Krum's voice, yelling forbidden curses, and Cedric, shouting that Krum was a miserable cheating piece of dung. Sparks were flying all over the place as the two cast curse and countercurse.

Harry crept forward on cat's feet, peering around a tree trunk at the two furiously dueling wizards. Cedric was nearly a match for Krum, but Harry wasn't about to leave anything to chance with the Durmstrang wizard. He waited until Krum was focused on Cedric and casting an illegal Imperius curse before he cut loose with a Stunning Hex.

_"Stupefy!"_ He fueled the spell with all of his anger at the other wizard and Krum went down like a ton of bricks.

Cedric had his wand pointed at the trees and he called, "Come out and show yourself!"

Harry walked out of the trees calmly. "Take it easy, Diggory."

Cedric relaxed a fraction. "Did you just take out Krum?"

"Yes. I don't deal with cheaters." Harry said shortly.

Cedric eyed him. "You look like you've been getting your arse kicked, Snape."

"Sometimes," Harry smirked. He in turn eyed Cedric. "You, on the other hand, almost did get yours kicked."

"I wasn't expecting him to attack me."

"That's why you almost got killed," Harry said. "Did you have to face undead too?"

"Undead? Hell, no! I had to fight off a manticore though. And some really vicious redcaps."

"Huh. Guess the labyrinth is different for all of us."

Cedric nodded. "Thanks for the assist, Snape. Now what?" He turned as they heard a low hiss from behind.

The biggest runespoor Harry had ever seen slithered out of the undergrowth. It was easily the size of a bus, nearly as big as the basilisk he had faced during second year. It was colored a fiery orange with neat black bands upon it and each of the three heads looked very menacing, though only the left head's fangs dripped a clear venom.

"Holy God!" Cedric whispered, his wand forgotten in his hand, totally frozen by the gigantic snake.

The snake curled up in the center of the clearing, and behind it appeared a large door with a jeweled doorknob and keyhole.

Cedric moaned softly. "Bloody hell, don't tell me we have to get past that creature and unlock the door in order to continue."

"I'd say that's exactly what we have to do," Harry said.

"You know any good spells that will kill a snake?"

Harry stiffened. Why was it that whenever they were faced with a snake, people wanted to know the best way to kill it? "Why do you assume we have to kill it?"

"Because how else are we going to get past it? I doubt it'll just let us waltz up and try the doorknob," Cedric snapped.

"It might. If you know the right way to ask it," Harry said.

"Well, I can't talk to snakes, so there goes that—wait a minute! You're a Parselmouth, aren't you?"

Harry nodded, then he stepped forward and hissed softly in Parseltongue, "Well met, brother-in-scales. How fare you?"

The runespoor whipped all of its heads about and looked at Harry with interest.

"A Speaker! It has been long and long since a Speaker talked with us!" exclaimed the right head, which was the planner and decision maker of the three.

"I dreamed yesterday that a Speaker or something like it would encounter us," murmured the middle head, the dreamer, sounding an awful lot like Trelawney in her prediction mode.

"Just because he's a Speaker doesn't mean we can let him walk all over us," hissed the third head, which was the most critical and distrustful of the three. "Don't tread on me, S-s-s-peaker!" Two drops of venom fell from its fangs to land on the ground with a hiss.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Harry told the snake respectfully. "Why are you here?"

"Hurt me?" the third head gave a serpent's version of a laugh, which was a deep hiss that reverberated out of its chest. "I could swallow you in one gulp and still have room for your companion there."

"Quite right. I can't really remember how I got here. Azeal, do you remember?" the middle head looked quizzically at the right head.

"Of course I remember, Azella! We were put here by some fool wizards to get a good meal. Except they never mentioned that the meal would have to be some scrawny human! Blegh! I get indigestion from them."

"Yes-s-s, brother. A nice plump pig or a deer is s-s-o much tas-s-tier."

"You are correct, for once, Ashterith," said Azeal.

"For once? What do you mean—for _once_?" snapped Ashterith. "I am right much more often than you, brother!"

"Then you don't want to eat us?" Harry hissed, interrupting the quarrel. Runespoors could quarrel among their three heads all day.

"Did we not just state that, little Speaker?" demanded Azeal.

"So then will you let us pass?"

The snake cocked all three heads at him. "Ahh . . .we did not say that, now did we?"

"The wizards requested that we guard this-s-s door," began the third head.

"I find it extremely boring sitting here all afternoon in front of this door. It's stifling my creativity," moaned Azella.

"A pox on your creativity, sister!" hissed Azeal. "We were put here to perform a task, now stop whimpering like a milk serpent just out of the egg."

"_I_ never volunteered for anything!" sniffed Azella, sounding quite put out. "No one ever asks me my opinion!"

"Why would we?" growled Ashterith. "You take forever to decide anything."

"What did they offer you?" asked Harry.

"Hiss-ss. That they wouldn't harm our eggs," Ashterith replied.

"Oh. What if I could offer you the same thing, only better?" Harry countered. "I come from a place where no wizards can set foot without my permission. You would have all the deer and wild pigs you could eat and peace to raise your young as well. And me to Speak with on occasion."

All three heads looked startled.

"Where is this place?" asked Azeal.

"My home. Prince Manor. It's Unplottable and Impenetrable, unless you've been invited in by the heir or heir apparent. It is a place that bonds two worlds together, that of this world and the world of the fae. You'll be safe there and happy. Is that worth more to you than your previous bargain?"

The three heads looked at one another, then they coiled about each other and began hissing and discussing Harry's offer so quickly that Harry had trouble following the conversation.

The minutes ticked by and Harry shifted from foot to foot. But he did not move, knowing that it would never do to make the runespoor nervous, and snakes were notorious for striking if they saw sudden movement.

Cedric too was frozen, his face still pale and sickly.

Azeal and Ashterith seemed to be arguing about what was more important, keeping one's word to the original party or abandoning it for a better deal.

"It would be dishonorable to break one's word," hissed Azeal.

"Ssss! How do we know we can trus-s-t those people to _keep_ their word, brother? I would first trust the S-s-s-peaker. He, at least, res-s-pects us-s-s. I s-s-ay, let us-s-s accept his offer and to the abyss-s-s with the others. I never liked them!" The forked tongue flicked in and out briefly.

"I must say . . .it does sound so . . .romantic . . .to live where fae have lived and be at peace to raise our snakelings," purred Azella. Her head began to sway back and forth.

"Stop that! You look like one of those stupid hypnotized cobras!" ordered Azeal. "Very well, I am outvoted and I must admit . . .his offer is better."

The three unwound from their knot and glided over close to Harry. "Speaker, we have agree to accept your offer. What may we give you in return?"

"Uh, let us pass and do you have a key for the door behind you? Because we would like to borrow it."

"Done!" all three heads hissed at once. The runespoor shot over to a pile of rocks and soon it returned, Azeal holding the key in his jaws.

The snake gently lowered its head and placed the gleaming golden key decorated with precious stones at Harry's feet. Then it glided off to the side.

Harry picked up the key. "Thanks!" he hissed.

"Do not forget your promis-s-s-e!" the runespoor reminded him.

Harry beckoned to Cedric. "Come on, Diggory." He paced the key into the lock and turned it.

The door shimmered and vanished, and together Harry and Cedric entered the final portion of the labyrinth.

The ground beneath their feet was golden and the hedge about this portion of the labyrinth was a beautifully trimmed rose hedge. The path ran straight until the hedge turned into a large circular shape with a large plinth of Corinthian marble in the middle of it. Atop that was the TriWizard Cup, a large golden chalice that glittered with diamond dust. The cup was on a pedestal with the date and a blank spot for the champion's name.

Harry started forward and so did Cedric.

Then they both halted and looked at each other.

"If it weren't for you, I would have been hexed by Krum," Cedric said. "You saved my arse, Snape. Go ahead, the cup's yours."

But Harry hesitated. "Cedric . . .I wasn't ever supposed to be in this tournament. The only reason I'm here now is because somebody who really wanted me to die put my name in the Goblet. So I really don't deserve the victory."

"Snape, don't be ridiculous. You might not have been supposed to compete, but you did and what's more, you outperformed all of us, even that jackass Krum. You deserve it, don't be so bloody noble!"

Harry smiled. "Can't help it. It's how I am." Then he got an idea. "Why don't we share the cup and the victory? Fair's fair."

Slowly, Cedric nodded. "All right. Hogwarts will have a double win then."

The two clasped hands and began to run towards the cup, their eyes shining.

_*Harry! Don't touch the cup! It's a Portkey!*_

Smidgen burst into view practically on top of him, landing upon his shoulder and digging all four sets of claws into him.

"Oww! Smidgen, what the blue blazes—"

_*Don't touch the cup! It's a trap!*_

Harry hesitated.

Cedric didn't. His fingers brushed the cup and because Harry was touching him, he too was taken along.

Harry felt the world start to spin about him and he felt a gigantic tug at his naval. "Hey! What's happening?"

He felt a strong hand clamp down upon his shoulder. "It's a Portkey, Harry. A magical object charmed to take you from one place to another."

"Uncle Phil?" He glanced behind him to see the vampire hovering in the air upon a pair of ebony feathered wings.

"Forgive me, I arrived too late to warn you—"

The rest of his words were lost as the Portkey grasped them all in its vortex and spirited them away, to a rendezvous with death and all of his faithful servants.

**Hope you all enjoyed that last task. I am literally out of breath from writing it.**

**Next: Find out what happens with the real Moody and imposter Crouch, plus the final showdown with Voldemort. Who will live and who will die? Should Cedric live?**


	31. Call to Arms

**31**

**Call To Arms**

_Hogwarts_

_Quidditch pitch:_

Barty Junior was standing just to the right of the judges box, watching as Karkaroff surreptitiously rubbed his arm. Barty felt the awful burning too and knew that the Dark Lord was gathering his faithful. Barty relished the pain, however, and wished he could Apparate immediately to his lord's side. But he knew he had to wait. Wait until the Snape whelp was within the maze and on his way to the Cup. His duty was to make sure Harry Snape got the Cup and triggered the Portkey. Once that was done he would slip away and report to his Master. He eyed his father's back and thought it a terrible shame he could not kill his dear old dad before going to the Dark Lord. Such a deed would show Voldemort beyond a doubt that he was still a loyal servant.

Snape felt a twinge of pain in his arm, and winced and looked down. The Mark on his arm burned and darkened faintly. He shuddered, hoping that what he feared had not yet come to pass. He glanced surreptitiously about and noticed Karkaroff also rubbing his arm. That could mean only one thing. A summons. Of course, Severus was not answering it. He would not reawaken the Mark that way. It would be suicide. He focused instead upon his son, who was just entering the labyrinth. He had done his best to prepare Harry for the final task and now he could do nothing but watch and wait and pray that his son came through the task whole. He did not even care if Harry won the TriWizard Cup, only that he walked safely out of the other side of the maze.

He turned and looked at Minerva, she looked like she was about to spit nails for some reason. "Something wrong, Minerva?"

She sighed and turned to him. "Besides the fact that I had to deal with one of my Lions trying marijuana and then discovered Mad Eye's gone off his rocker and decided to Transfigure your son Draco into a ferret and bounce him all over the pathway."

"He did _what_?" Severus hissed, horrified and furious.

"He claimed he was teaching him a lesson in manners, the crazy fool."

"Oh?" Severus said dangerously. "I shall give _him_ a lesson in manners he won't soon forget. Where is the miserable bastard?"

"He stomped off somewhere after I finished giving him a piece of my mind. I assume he is here somewhere." Minerva said frostily.

Severus looked ready to leap off the podium and search for the erring professor then and there. "How was Draco? Did he go to the Hospital Wing?"

"I . . .well . . .I would assume so, he looked rather bruised and shaken, although when I finished tearing strips off Moody and looked for him, he was gone."

Severus scanned the seats in the front of the stadium and spotted Draco and Hermione as well as Phil's family waving pennants and cheering for Harry. "Hmm . . .maybe he did visit Poppy, he looks all right, from what I can see. Even so . . .I am going to be having a long discussion with Albus about the fitness of his Defense teachers," said Severus grimly.

"As will I. What he did was nothing short of criminal," Minerva said, sounding very peeved.

Severus peered back at his son and his friends and family, reassuring himself that Draco was indeed okay. It was then that he noticed Philip was missing. _Where in the world is he? It's not like him to be late. Unless he found out what that blithering idiot did to Draco and is exacting his own brand of revenge._ He wouldn't put it past Phil to do that.

He absently rubbed his arm again and checked his watch. The sun had started to go down, and so far the champions had been in the maze for just under an hour. About fifteen minutes later, he caught a glimpse of Harry as he emerged from part of the labyrinth and stood upon a platform where the crowd could see him. Severus choked back a huge gasp of relief. Harry had made it more than halfway. The rest of the crowd cheered and clapped.

Then his son disappeared as he continued on deeper into the maze.

Severus kept his eyes focused upon the hedge maze, willing his son to remember all he had been taught and to be careful.

Barty remained partially out of view behind him, half-trembling with eagerness. He hoped all would go well with the ritual tonight in the graveyard, hoped that Wormtail, the tosser, didn't muck things up. He wished that _he_ had been chosen to perform the ritual that would bring Voldemort back to his full power again. Wormtail was nothing but a bloody incompetent stooge.

The Mark seared, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out in pained joy. _He returns! He returns! Call me to your side, Master!_

A hand wrapped about his mouth out of nowhere, and then he heard a familiar dreaded voice hiss, "Silence! Don't make any sudden moves or try and call out. Or else I shall tear out your throat and leave you for the ravens to pick your bones."

Barty Jr. panicked for the first time he could remember. Not even the Dementors had engendered the terror this vampire Snape did. He felt himself being lifted off the ground and wondered why no one else could see and come to investigate.

"Be still! No one will see or hear you beneath my veil." Phil growled. "I am going to remove my hand so you may answer a question. Answer it promptly and you won't get bitten." Philip removed his hand.

The false Moody gasped and shuddered.

"Has Harry Snape gone into the labyrinth?"

"Yes."

Inwardly, Philip swore, then he leaped up and flew back behind the stands, where the real Alastor Moody waited. As soon as he had landed, Alastor lunged at Crouch the Younger and slammed him hard in the face.

Crouch was thrust back against Philip, who, despite the power of Alastor's blow, remained rock steady. "Ahhh! You damned insane old codger!"

"_You're_ the one who's insane, boy! Did you really think you could get away with it?" Alastor howled, and then he fastened his hands on the other's face, slammed Barty in the forehead with the top of his own head, and ripped the magical eye out of the imposter's socket. "That's mine, you sneaking piece of dung!" He rubbed the eye on his shirt, then popped the eye back into his own socket.

Barty reeled in Phil's grasp and the vampire declared softly, "Can you handle it from here, my friend? I need to go and warn Harry. Time is running out."

"I can." He pulled his wand and cast a quick Body Bind, then he gave the inert imposter a fierce grin. "I'm going to make him wish he never learned how to cast a spell. Go, Philip. Save your boy. I'll take out the trash."

"Right. Tell Severus what's going on, won't you?" Philip took to the sky, and flew as quickly as he could towards the labyrinth. But even his spectacular vampire speed was not enough to turn back the hands of time. He had the sinking feeling he would be too late, and so he sent to the only other being that might be able to warn Harry in time.

_Smidgen!_

_:Philip! Are you all right? Where have you been?:_

_No time to talk, catkin! You must warn Harry not to touch the TriWizard Cup! It's a trap—a Portkey that will transport him to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Warn him!_

_:On my way, Nightwalker!:_ He spotted the shimmerling hovering over Severus, and then she vanished, blinking over to Harry.

Unfortunately, neither shimmerling nor vampire managed to warn the impetuous champions in time, but both made certain that wherever the Portkey took the two boys, it took them as well.

Vampire, wizards, and shimmerling all landed somewhere inside a graveyard. They were next to a large yew tree and in the distance could see an old house, worn and graying. Smidgen flew off Harry's shoulder and vanished, using her fae powers to conceal herself. The wind blew high and cold and Harry felt himself start to shiver, he hadn't realized until now that his robes were in tatters and the scratches inflicted upon him by the zombies and skeletons burned and itched. But he ignored the discomfort and drew his wand.

Cedric, who also sported ripped up jeans and a smudge of black upon his shirt that Harry bet was not dirt, drew his wand as well. "What in hell just happened?" he asked, his eyes darting from Philip to Harry and back again.

"Keep behind me," Philip ordered. He glanced at Cedric, who still clutched the Cup. "The Cup was a trap, a Portkey to get you here."

"Where's here?" asked Harry.

"Somewhere we don't wish to be," answered the vampire dryly. "Now do as I say, and let me take point. There is an unnatural stirring in the air. Someone tonight is working a ritual of blood magic nearby. I can feel it."

Harry realized with a start that so could he. It made his stomach ache and his head throb.

"Who are you? An angel?" asked Cedric, mesmerized by Philip's sudden appearance and night black wings.

Phil laughed softly. "Ah, if only. No, young Diggory, I am no angel."

"He's my uncle, and he's a vampire," Harry said.

Cedric paled. "A _vampire_?"

"A Born vampire, and therefore no danger to you. I take only the blood of the evil-doer." Philip reassured him. His wings suddenly retracted into his shoulders.

"O-okay," Cedric tried to keep the instinctive tremor from his voice. He sensed that Philip would be a very dangerous enemy. He looked askance at Harry. "You have some weird family members, Harry."

Harry smirked. "Only compared to some."

Cedric managed a smile back. "I guess it's handy having a vampire in the family."

Harry nodded, thinking of how many times Philip had saved his life and the lives of his father and brother.

"Hush!" the vampire hissed, holding up a hand. "Someone's coming!"

They had just rounded a corner of a set of gravestones, their feet sinking deep into the unmown grass, when they heard the shuffling and scraping of feet. Down the path from the dilapidated house came a small figure, carrying something that looked like a bundle of robes in his arms.

Harry suddenly went cold and gasped. He felt bile rise up in his throat. "Oh, Merlin help us! What is that? It's . . .so dark, so cold . . ."

"Evil," whispered Philip, baring his fangs.

The shuffling figure came to a halt in front of one particular gravestone, and set the bundle of robes down with loving tenderness. "There now, my lord. I have everything prepared, and soon your enemy will be arriving . . ."

With a start, Harry recognized Wormtail. His lip curled.

The bundle stirred, and a withered hand crept out of a sleeve and tossed aside the cavernous hood to reveal . . .a wizened face with burning red eyes and a lipless mouth that reminded Harry of an awful mockery of a serpent. He stared directly into those eyes and felt his heart seize.

Those eyes. He had seen them before . . .in his nightmares . . .and for real, the night he had come to Godric's Hollow and killed James and Lily Potter.

_Voldemort._

"_He has arrived, Wormtail. He is there!"_ the claw-like hand lifted and pointed directly at where Harry was standing, shielded partially by the headstone and by Philip.

Wormtail turned with a squeak and saw them. He whimpered upon seeing Philip, who had fangs bared and glowing red eyes. "There are others, Master! Another boy and a—"

_"Kill the spare!"_

Wormtail obeyed, pointing his wand at Cedric and screaming, _"Avada Kedavra!"_

A green light shot out from his wand.

A black blur intercepted it.

"No!" Harry screamed as the green light impacted full on Philip's chest.

It crackled and haloed the ancient vampire with a sickly light, then it sputtered and died. Philip snarled. "Nice try, Death Eater. But don't you know . . .the Killing Curse has no effect upon me . . .for I am immortal . . ." His wings suddenly emerged from his back again.

A white-faced Cedric backed away, the Cup still clutched in his hands.

Now other figures were appearing in the graveyard, and all of them wore the distinctive black robes and silver-white masks of Death Eaters. They began shooting curses at Philip and the boys.

Harry threw himself flat as a red light shot towards him.

"Cedric, use the Portkey and go back to Hogwarts! Get the hell out of here, get Severus and tell him what's going on and to get his arse here now!" he launched himself at Wormtail, who screeched and scuttled backwards. "Harry, grab his other hand, dammit!"

But Harry was unable to get to Cedric, the curses were splattering everywhere now, and he yelled at the other wizard, "Cedric—_go!_ Do what he said! _Go!_"

"But Harry—!"

"You wanna die? _Go_!" Harry screamed. "He'll protect me, it's what he does best."

Cedric looked at the furiously fighting vampire, who had just sent Wormtail flying head over heels with one casual backhand. "I'll be back, Snape!" Then he shouted something and the Cup began to glow and an instant later he was gone.

Just before another Killing Curse struck the spot where he had been.

"Harry, keep behind me!" Phil yelled, as he tried to get to Voldemort to rip out his throat.

But the Death Eaters had now closed ranks about their leader and the vampire was thwarted by a tall figure in an imposing silver mask.

"How very interesting. A vampire on the side of the Light. Tsk. Tsk. How you have gone astray." Lucius purred.

"Not by my lights." Phil sneered. He made a gesture and his silver dagger morphed into a rapier. His eyes glowed a hellish red.

Lucius chanted a word and his serpent-headed cane transformed into a sword. He lunged at the vampire in a classic fencing strike.

"_Get the boy!"_ Voldemort was screaming. _"I need his blood! Get him!"_

Immediately, five Death Eaters turned and converged upon Harry, who had cautiously gotten to his feet, wand at the ready.

Philip broke off his riposte and picked up the closest Death Eater and threw him violently through the air. He landed with a crunch about ten feet away, impaled upon a statue of St. George.

But there were too many, and more were Apparating in every minute.

"Harry!" Phil yelled. "Use your brooch! Call for help!"

Only then did Harry remember the shimmerling brooch. He grasped it in his hand and shouted, "I, Harry Snape, call upon Titania's host for aid!"

The brooch glowed with a pure blue light and Harry felt the earth tremble and he was knocked to his knees. Thunder crashed and lightning exploded in the sky and a swirling glowing vortex formed off to one side of him.

HPSSHPSS

Cedric reappeared in a bright blue flash outside the labyrinth, the TriWizard Cup clutched in his hands. The Hufflepuff section started to cheer and whoop loudly, for their House had never won any kind of major victory before and they were wildly exhilarated. Amos Diggory, who was seated next to the Snapes, stood up and yelled, "That's my boy! Way to go, Ced!"

The judges were all on their feet as well, applauding, all save for Snape and Karkaroff. Karkaroff had suddenly vanished and Severus was numb, wondering if Harry was all right, or if he was lying unconscious somewhere in the labyrinth.

Cedric, far from looking jubilant, raced across the grass, still holding the Cup, and right up onto the judge's platform to Severus. "Professor Snape, Harry and . . .his vampire are in trouble! The Cup was a Portkey, it took us to some graveyard and the . . .You-Know-Who was there and all the Death Eaters and you've got to bring help, or else they'll die!"

Severus could barely understand him, he was babbling so fast. "Diggory, slow down! What about Harry and Philip?"

Cedric repeated what he had said, just before the members of Hufflepuff House descended upon him and picked him up and marched him around the stadium. "Sir, catch!" he made as if to toss the Cup to Snape.

But Severus waved him off, he had another means of finding Harry. He Summoned his Staff of the Magi and then clasped his Medallion of Inheritance.

"Severus!" Minerva cried, for she had been close enough to hear Cedric's story. "You can't go there alone, you'll be slaughtered! At least let Albus and me call the Order!"

"No time, Minerva. They have my _son_." Severus cried, then he lowered his head and concentrated. His amulet was linked to Harry's and with it he could track his son unerringly. An image of Harry formed in his mind, and he saw his son exchanging spells with a dark wizard. He quickly called upon his amulet's magic, which acted very much like a Portkey, and vanished, Harry's need wailing a siren call in his head.

Minerva turned to grab Dumbledore. "Albus, we've got to gather the Order! _He's_ returned and Harry and Severus are in danger!"

Before Dumbledore could respond, Alastor marched up, dragging the imposter Moody behind him by the hair.

"What's the meaning of this, Alastor?" asked the Headmaster, sounding puzzled.

"We've been had, Albus." Moody said shortly. "This—this piece of dung has been impersonating me all year using Polyjuice Potion." He indicated his sawed off chunks of hair. "While I've been trapped in my own trunk, starving, he's been infiltrating the school in the name of his dark master."

Minerva gasped, and next to her Barty Crouch senior went pale as an eggshell.

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "How do I know you're not the imposter?"

Moody met his eyes squarely. "You don't. I could be lying. I'm not, but you'd be a fool to take me at my word. Give me Veritaserum. I'm sure Snape has some in his stores. Matter of fact, give both of us it. But hurry, because I don't want to be late to the brawl. I have a great need to thump some Death Eater scum's arse."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. He looked at Minerva. "Summon the Order, Minerva. Alastor, my office, quickly." He turned back and said, almost absent-mindedly, "Barty, come along, old fellow. I'll need a witness for administering the Veritaserum. Ludo, my boy, do congratulate Mr. Diggory for me, there's a good fellow."

Then he hurried away, Moody following, after he had levitated the unconscious imposter for easier transport through the corridors.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

Severus arrived in the midst of a war zone. In addition to most of Voldemort's inner circle, which used to number thirteen, there were also twenty or so other Death Eaters and someone had summoned up a team of skeleton warriors, an easy trick for any necromancer considering they were in a graveyard. Philip was pressed back against a large headstone that read Tom Riddle, with Harry behind him, striking down any skeleton or Death Eater who drew too near. Smidgen was blinking in and out, using her dreamweaver ability to confuse some of the dark wizards who were susceptible to illusions and mind control. But it was clear that they were woefully outnumbered.

Severus popped up a few feet beyond the headstone, and for a moment or two went unnoticed. He took advantage of that momentary element of surprise to launch an attack of his own. He used his staff, twirling the black wood about his head and calling down multiple bolts of lightning. The lightning raced all along the black length, crackling and hissing, but leaving the wielder unharmed.

He pointed the lightning wrapped staff at the knot of Death Eaters trying to get past Philip and take Harry.

"_Mors Mortus Quintarus!"_

There came a sizzling sound and then five huge bolts of purple lightning exploded from the staff and slammed into five Death Eaters, killing them instantly.

The others shrank away, even the skeletons were wary of such a powerful magus.

Phil smirked. "You took your sweet time getting your arse in gear, Sev! What do you think I am, Achilles?"

Severus came out from behind the headstone. "You telling me you can't handle a few undead and some paltry dark sorcerers? You must be losing your edge."

"Dad?" Harry called from behind the vampire.

"Harry, are you all right?"

"Yeah. I'm not dead yet," he quipped.

"Good. Stay that way," Severus instructed, not turning around, though he wanted badly to hug his son. He had to stay focused upon the enemies before him. he brought the staff down parallel across his body, it was glowing with eldritch light.

The Death Eaters began flinging curses at him, screaming, "Snape, you bloody traitor!"

But he blocked them all with the staff, the ebony wood absorbing everything that was cast at it. Then he spun the staff and shouted another word, and all the stored magical energy released in one concentrated burst.

When Harry could see again, most of the skeletons were lying on the ground, never to rise again, and so were five more Death Eaters.

"Get him, you fools!" roared Voldemort. "What are you waiting for?"

"Master," quivered one. "The traitor has a Staff of the Magi."

"So _what?_" screamed their beloved leader. "I don't care if he has a bomb strapped to his chest, just get in there and _kill _him! Must I do everything myself?"

"Bloody blazes, Dad! That staff is wicked!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes, but I can only do spells like that once in any given day." Severus murmured. He moved forward, deflecting another curse.

Some of the Death Eaters began moving, trying to flank them.

Harry wondered frantically where the hell Titania's host was. The portal that he had called into being was still swirling energy and dripping with static magical force, yet nothing had come through yet. This was an emergency, dammit! What was taking them so long?

Philip lunged at a smallish Death Eater, lifting the witch from the ground and burying his fangs in her throat. Her scream cut off abruptly, and in a few moments she ceased to move at all. The master vampire tossed her aside, his eyes burning with bloodlust. "Here, chicky, chicky! The big bad kitty needs another snack." His fangs were stained with the blood of the witch he had just drained, and the cold hard look upon his features was terrifying to behold.

Harry shuddered, seeing for the first time the merciless warrior that lurked within the civilized veneer of the friendly vampire. And for the first time he saw just how dangerous Philip was when he allowed that side to come out. The young wizard pressed back against the headstone and thanked God he was not facing Philip as an enemy. Or Severus either, who had just killed ten Death Eaters without blinking an eyelash.

_Kill or be killed._ Now he understood the true meaning of that saying. For a moment he felt his stomach turn, then he remembered what sort of people they were facing and what they had done—torturing and killing innocent women, children, Muggleborns and Muggles who had done nothing to anyone. And who were trying to kill him as well, so they could resurrect their dark master. The sick feeling went away, leaving only a raw determination in its place. This was about survival and he wanted to survive and he wanted his family to survive. And if that meant killing Death Eaters, so be it.

He pointed his wand and fired off a Stunning Hex, then followed it with a Slippery Ground Jinx, which caused several of the advancing necromancers to fall, making easier targets for his father and Phil's wand and sword.

Bellatrix Lestrange crept about the side of the tombstone where the Snapes were standing, her wand leveled at Severus' head. A malicious smile curved up the corners of her red lips and she whispered, "Farewell, Severus Snape! Say hello to your wife for me!" She drew in a breath and cried, "_Avada Ked—aghk!"_

The rest of the curse was lost as a silveron sword neatly separated her head from her shoulders.

Sarai pulled her fae steed to a halt and eyed the bloody head upon the ground. "Should have looked behind you, crazy bitch." Then she spun her mount and went to fight another Death Eater.

Behind her came what seemed like dozens of fae warriors, streaming through the Gate into the graveyard. One was blowing a silver chased trumpet in the classic call to arms, and all were mounted upon fae horses whose hooves flashed like diamonds. All the warriors were armored and armed in silveron and all of them tore into the Death Eaters with a kind of cold fury.

Philip halted to stare at the line of fae warriors and let out a cheer. "Mother of us all, but they actually came. Look, Harry, do you see? The Queen herself rides in their train?" He pointed to a tall figure wearing silver and electrum plated armor with a purple plume in her helmet. She carried both longsword and wand, and her green eyes were luminous with anger.

Harry's jaw dropped. He had expected Sarai and some sort of guard, but never Titania. The fae queen radiated such an aura of power that those Death Eaters who were close to her fell on their knees, trembling in awe and terror. The earth shook with the thunder of hooves and overhead flew several fighting falcons, war birds trained to attack and hold an opponent, and several misthounds ran alongside, unleashing furious howls that caused the sorcerer calling up another wave of zombies and wraiths to clutch his ears and scream as the unearthly dogs' baying shattered his eardrums.

The fae host split into thirds like a well-ordered machine, Sarai took her company towards Severus and Harry and surrounded them with a wall of silveron and magic, Titania and her guard made straight for the center of the clearing and Voldemort, who was screaming frantically and trying to burrow beneath the black robes he was wrapped in. "No! This cannot be! Who has summoned these bloody fae back into the world?" He pointed his wand and zapped a fae warrior off his steed, the warrior rolled to his feet, grimacing with pain, but his sword was out and he was thrusting at a black-robed wizard before the other could cast a spell.

The third part of Titania's personal guard went left, mopping up any stragglers.

The Queen spun her mount and saluted Harry, shouting, "As you have summoned me for aid, little cousin, so I am here. Fear not, we shall soon disperse this rabble."

A beefy Death Eater cast a spell that squirted green venom at Titania. She eyed the other disdainfully and blew upon the oncoming venom and it was transmuted to harmless moonbeams. "Is that the best you have? You need a better teacher, necromancer. Let me show you how it's done."

She twitched a finger and flames roared out of her hands and burnt the offending Death Eater to a crisp. She sniffed. "Next time pay attention, mortal." Then she wheeled her mount and called, "Auvignall, to me! I have a score to settle with yon leader there!"

Her guards closed ranks about her and they charged Voldemort's position in the middle of the graveyard.

The arrival of the fae host threw Voldemort's faithful into chaos. Most of them were unaccustomed to fighting in close quarters, against opponents who were both quicker and stronger magically than they were. They were used to being the biggest baddest bullies on the playground, but their reputation didn't impress Titania's folk in the slightest.

Wormtail fled, squealing, but he barely made it three feet before a fae warrior slammed him in the back with a lance. He died with barely a whimper, and the fae lord trampled what was left into the dust as he joined the queen's charge. Harry would have missed it had he not kept his eyes peeled.

He glanced to the side, saw Sarai battling a tall Death Eater that resembled Gregory Goyle, his mask had been knocked off during the fight, he had conjured up a spiked mace and was trying to bash Sarai off her horse. But the fae Captain was too wily to ever succumb to a trick like that, and she had her mount rear and strike at the Death Eater with flying hooves, driving him back and back. Then she thrust her sword home in Goyle's chest, gave a half-twist, and pulled back, leaving him bleeding his life out upon the freshly churned earth. Her green eyes were chips of emerald ice.

Suddenly, Severus' voice rang out. "Sarai! Beware!"

Harry turned and saw that Karkaroff was trying to sneak up on Sarai from behind, holding a long knife made of iron and dripping a green venom. "Behind you!"

Sarai whirled, but the knife would have caught her, quick as she was, if not for Severus, who hurled his staff from him.

In mid-air the staff became a fiery javelin, flying unerringly towards Karkaroff and impaling him in the chest.

The Headmaster of Durmstrang died, a startled expression of disbelief upon his face, before he exploded into ash.

"Coward!" spat Severus, his eyes blazing. "Say hello to the devil on your way to hell." He held out his hand, and the javelin transformed back into wood and blinked into his hand.

"Thank you, Sev!" Sarai called, giving her beloved a salute.

"Nice one, Sev," Phil remarked as he fended off a zombie, decapitating it neatly. "That bastard staked me and would have left me to burn. Poetic justice."

"Right," Severus said, then turned to fight a second zombie.

Harry was pretty well-defended by both Snapes, but even they could not have anticipated the threat that struck at him next.

He saw a blur of movement in the grass to the left of him, but by the time he had turned and was ready to cast, Nagini was already upon him. The cobra was easily the largest he had ever seen, and she did not respond to his greeting in Parseltongue.

Instead she spread her hood and hissed, "My master bids me s-slay you, S-Speaker, for you are a danger to him and as his familiar I cannot permit it. Therefore, you s-s-shall not s-s-see tomorrow's dawn!"

Her triangular head was a blur as she struck, going straight for his throat.

He had no time to dodge, to conjure a Shield Charm, he saw death reach out Her hand to him in a millisecond. He shut his eyes and thought _I'm going to die this time._

He waited for the fangs to sink into his throat, for the burn of venom to pump through his veins and steal away his life.

Instead he heard an angry yowl and a hiss of fury.

He opened his eyes and saw Smidgen atop the serpent's head, clawing and biting at Nagini's eyes. Blood ran in tiny rivulets from the shimmerling's claws and Nagini thrashed and tossed her head, but the fae cat clung like a barnacle, her wings fluttering madly. :_Dark spawn, you shall not harm my charge!:_

Nagini hissed and thrashed, slamming the fae cat into the gravestones and the yew tree, but Smidgen refused to be dislodged.

"Smidgen!" yelled Harry, then he did something he never thought he would do. He pointed his wand at the snake and shouted a Burning Hex. _"Incendio!"_

Fire blossomed from his wand and struck Nagini, lighting her up like a Roman candle. The cobra began to burn.

"Smidgen, get clear! Get out!"

The fae cat slowly released her hold, springing away just as the giant snake toppled to the dirt, still writhing and burning.

Harry knelt to lift the tiny shimmerling into his hands. She was battered and bloody, her sparkling wings hanging at an odd angle, blood leaking from her nose, her violet eyes dull. "Oh, God. Smidgen, please . . ."

The violet eyes focused. _:Harry . . .you live . . .that is good . . .my friend. . .:_ her mind voice stuttered as she fought for breath.

"Smidgen, don't . . .you're going to be okay . . ." he whispered, cradling the shimmerling close.

_:Will I? I am . . .so cold . . .Harry . . .so cold . . .all debts are paid, Harry Snape . . .a life for a life, my promise kept . . .:_

She went still in his hand.

He threw back his head and howled. "**_NO_**!" But his scream was lost in the cacophony of battle.

To one side of him, Philip fenced Lucius again, weaving a deadly dance of destruction with his rapier. The Dark Lord's right hand was faltering against the older, more experienced, and lightning-swift vampire. He was down on one knee, struggling to keep the rapier from his throat.

To the other, Severus and Sarai took down the last remaining undead and a few yards ahead of him, Titania and her guard finished off Dolohov, Narcissa, and the last few of the inner circle, and then the faerie queen dismounted and stood over the shrunken form of Voldemort. His remaining few faithful followers cringed and backed away, leaving him alone to face the wrath of the High Queen.

Titania looked the Dark Lord up and down, and said, in an implacable voice, cold as winter frost, "So, Tom Riddle, we meet again, at last. Did you really think you could escape the justice of the fae? Foolish little mage, you broke a bargain with me, and now your debt has come due."

"I owe you no fealty, daughter of orcs!" Voldemort spat, trying to inch away and grab his wand, which had gotten knocked out of his hand during the fight.

Titania moved and stepped upon his hand, her boot grinding it into the dirt. "Oh no, Tommy. No wands for naughty little wizards."

Voldemort grimaced in agony. But he glared up at her with red eyes full of hate.

One of her guard drew his sword and lunged, but Titania held up her hand and he managed to turn the thrust aside. The tip of the blade cut Voldemort's cheek, leaving a thin red line of blood.

"Is human memory really so fallible?" Titania continued, her voice still icy. "Surely you remember the bargain you struck with me when you were a young man? I gave you hospitality in exchange for your service as court wizard for a year and a day. You claimed you wished to study the ways of my people and learn some of our magical arts. I welcomed you as my honored guest. But you broke the bargain by fleeing before your term was half-served and not only that, but you killed one of my people in your escape and raped another. I trusted you and you broke your oath! In all of Fairie, there is none so despicable as an oathbreaker and you are oathbreaker and murderer and defiler, triply cursed and triply damned." Her smile stretched, grew pointed and dreadful, like a tiger ready to pounce. "And now, faithless cur, I am here to collect my debt at long last."

Voldemort shrank away from her awful majesty, huddling into the black robe like a child afraid of well-deserved thrashing from a stern parent. He spoke, his voice humble and devoid of that scintillating arrogance it usually possessed.

"Please, Great Queen, I beg pardon. Show me mercy . . .I was a foolish apprentice, I suffered from bouts of melancholia and knew not what I did . . .I shall make amends . . ."

The Queen of the Seelie threw back her head and laughed, bitter and low.

"Even now you seek to wriggle out of your responsibility. Do not lie, you knew exactly what you were doing, clever backstabber. But no matter how you wriggle, little viper, you shall not escape my justice. For I am no mortal to be toyed with and a fae never forgets an insult or a bargain broken." Her boot remained firmly upon Voldemort's splayed hand. "Moreover, you have dared offer violence to a member of my family. That is also unforgivable."

You could have heard a pin drop in the graveyard, as fae and wizards alike were frozen, unable to tear their eyes away from the Queen and the one who had dared break his word and not pay the price.

The tip of her sword, glowing with lambent magical energy, touched Voldemort's throat lazily.

A hush descended over the graveyard, as all waited to see what Titania would do.

"Majesty, I beg of you, help my friend!" Harry cried, unable to keep still any longer, his voice cracking with grief, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

Some of the fae gasped and frowned in disapproval at this breach of protocol.

He ran forward and dropped to one knee beside the fae Queen, holding out his cupped hands as if giving an offering. "Please, Your Grace, if you can, save Smidgen. She . . .was injured defending me from Nagini. . .his familiar . . ."

Titania's stony face softened a bit as she beheld the black dreamweaver. "Ah, my ever faithful messenger . . .you deserve better than to travel to the Summer Country so soon. If there is enough Art in my hands, I shall heal you, Inularian." She barked an order to her guards in the liquid syllables of the fae tongue and they immediately surrounded Voldemort, swords drawn, making sure he had no chance to escape or reach his wand. Then she gently took Smidgen from Harry's outstretched hands.

Harry bowed his head to hide his tears and silently prayed that he was not too late to save the valiant shimmerling, his first real friend out of the realm of Faerie.

**What will happen now? **

**Titania has something very fitting in mind for Voldemort--the fae never forget nor do they forgive, usually.**

**Barty Junior will get his commuppance as well next chapter.**

**Cedric lives as I couldn't bear to let him die this time. **

**As for Smidgen . . .I'm calling for a vote as I am undecided--should she be allowed to live and spend the rest of her days at Prince Manor or die the death of the valiant? Please include your preference in your review. **

**Thanks everyone for reading and for all your support. I wouldn't keep writing without it!**


	32. All Debts Paid

**32**

**All Debts Paid**

_"If there is enough Art in my hands, I shall heal you, Inularian."_

Titania's words echoed in Harry's head as he waited to see if the High Queen could save the shimmerling, his wise counselor, who had the courage of a hundred wizards packed into a three inch body. _Please, oh, please, let her live! I don't want to have another death on my conscience. I already have Lily's and James'. I am so sick of people dying for me. I'm not worth it, dammit all. Smidgen, please live. PLEASE!_ He did not know if the gallant shimmerling could hear him in her gravely injured state, but if she could, he wanted her to know that he wished her to live. More than anything, he wished it, with everything he was.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder, and he started.

"Easy, Harry. It's only me."

"Sarai?"

"Aye, youngling."

Harry did not speak, for Titania had closed her hands gently about the stricken shimmerling, forming a sort of ball and had begun whispering something in the liquid tongue of the fae. Her cupped hands began to pulse with gold and violet light.

"What . . .what is she saying?"

"She calls upon the four elements and the Great Mother, whom we worship, to help her save her faithful friend and messenger."

"Is it . . .working?" He cast stricken green eyes up at her.

"I don't know," Sarai said honestly. "I am no great mage, Harry. What spells I know are simple ones, spells of small charms and bindings and spells of war. I am no Healer. Titania is very much my elder in both years and Power."

"Do you think . . .she can save Smidgen?" he whispered.

"Child, she shall do her best. However, you must understand, the Queen is very powerful, the strongest mage I know, but even she is not a goddess. It may be that Smidgen is beyond even her Art. If the Mother calls her to the Blessed Realm, Titania will have naught to say about it."

He swallowed hard. "I . . .understand . . .but . . ."

Sarai squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "It is hard. Hard to see one companion sacrifice herself so that you may live while she does not. But such was her choice, Harry. She kept her bargain, as a true fae, and you must respect that." The Captain of the Royal Guard darted her eyes sideways towards her monarch. Titania's head was bowed, and her hands still glowed with healing light. "But I don't want her to die for me, Sarai!" Harry hissed, fresh tears stinging his eyes. "Too many people have done that. I want no more deaths on my conscience. It's not fair. It hurts too much. Who am I that she should give her life for me?"

Sarai put her arm about his shoulders. "Oh, child. Only a friend determines if you are worthy for that ultimate sacrifice. And if . . .it should come to pass, you shouldn't blame yourself, but honor the gift she gave to you." She met his eyes, and in her gaze was sorrow and understanding.

"Have you ever . . .had a friend die for you?"

"Many times. I am a warrior, I have seen many friends fall in battle, defending me and defending my queen. And, no, it doesn't get easier. But you learn, eventually, to grieve and to honor the sacrifice made and to never forget the debt owed to those who have gone before." She indicated her sword, hanging in her scabbard. "Do you see the hilt of my sword? Each small jewel there represents a friend lost, a friend who gave his or her life for me. In this way I honor their memory, and they accompany me into battle always."

Harry counted ten jewels of all kinds. "So many."

"Yes. And like you, I too hope that this will not be another."

Together, the Captain and the boy who would one day become her adopted son watched and waited as the fae Queen struggled with death.

There was a stirring behind them, as Lucius attempted to spring at Titania, whether to murder her or merely break her concentration, was never known.

For Philip ran him through with consummate deadly grace, and thus died the Head of the Malfoy family, making his son Draco the last Malfoy.

The vampire withdrew his sword and wiped it casually upon a tussock of grass. "Treacherous idiot," was all he said. Then he too focused upon the High Queen.

Titania remained lost in her spellcraft for a few minutes more, though to those watching, the minutes seemed like hours. Time had slowed to a crawl.

At last the light vanished and she opened her hands.

Smidgen stood upon her palm, alive, one wing crooked, for it had been too damaged to be fully restored, but her violet eyes were sparkling and she shook herself and bowed to her monarch. _:I thank you, Gracious Queen, for the gift of my life, though I regret that my . . .disability has rendered me unfit for your service.:_

Titania smiled joyfully. "Worry not, for you have spent nearly all your life in service to the throne and have earned a retirement of sorts, Inularian. From now on, you are no longer my messenger, but my personal dreamweaver, if you consent to advise me when I have need. As such you need no longer dwell at court, but may live where you choose. And you shall be known forever in the annals of our people as Inularian the Valiant, Best and Brightest, Wizardfriend."

Smidgen bowed with her front paws extended. _: Your Majesty is most generous.:_ Then she stared directly at Harry and asked softly, _:Harry, do you think there is room for me at Prince Manor?:_

"Always," he said hoarsely, then he held out a hand and the fae cat sprang from her monarch's hand to his own, purring loudly. "Smidgen, I . . .I'm so glad . . ." he could not finish, he was too overwhelmed by relief and choked up. _. . .so glad you survived, but for the love of Merlin, don't ever do that again! You scared me to death!_

:_You exaggerate, my friend. But the debt is settled between us, and the only obligation I have now is one I shall fulfill happily, that of being your friend. If you would do me the honor, Harry Albus Snape?:_

_You need to ask? Of course. If you will do the same for me?_

_:Done.: _Smidgen sent, then licked his cheek. :_For you and yours, heir to Prince Manor, I am ever your friend.:_ Then she walked proudly up Harry's arm to sit upon his shoulder, while Harry fought to keep from crying with joy.

"Welcome back, old friend," Sarai said, and smiled down upon them.

"How very touching," sneered a cold voice, as Voldemort sat up, his face void of pity. "All hail the mighty Queen, who can bring a friend back from the brink of death." He applauded mockingly. "You show mercy to a mere animal, but none to a fellow magus?"

Titania whirled upon him, her compassion vanishing from her face in an instant, to be replaced by a terrible cold rage. "You are not deserving of mercy, not in any shape or form!" There was an inhuman coldness about her now and Harry shivered upon seeing it.

He recalled Severus saying once that the fae were not like humans, they never forgot an insult and very rarely forgave the one who had wronged them. _You cross a fae at your own peril, they are not like us, their emotions run hot and cold and they can be utterly merciless, especially to those who break their word. Their justice is harsh and final, and if ever you make a bargain with a fae, mind you keep it. They can make the very best friends but also the very worst enemies._

Now Harry understood exactly what Severus had been talking about.

Titania had gone rigid and her slender frame trembled with an icy terrible rage and he could feel his skin prickle with the surging magic pulsing from her, she fixed Voldemort with her cat-like eyes, and when she spoke again, her voice held the promise of violence quadrupled. "I have not forgotten, Thomas Marvolo Riddle, how you repaid my hospitality so long ago. I have a long memory, and you harmed not one, but _two_ members of my family, one of them my own daughter!" Her eyes glowed with both anger and pain. "What is it you humans say? Revenge is a dish best served cold? I have waited for this day for many years, and finally it has come." She bared her teeth in a smile that was terrifying for its utter fierceness. She reminded Harry of a dragon baring its teeth before it pounced upon you and ate you.

Voldemort tried to get to his feet, but he was too weak to stand, and fell back upon the ground in a heap, cursing. "Fine! Get it over with! Kill me!"

"Kill you? Oh, no, wizard. That would be too easy. I know of your propensity to revive yourself from death's kingdom, dark sorcerer. When you came to me so long ago, do you recall what you wished me to teach you? You wished to learn the secrets of immortality."

"And you spurned me, Your _Grace_!" spat Voldemort. "You refused my request!"

Titania was unruffled. "Because such is not within my power to grant. Immortality is not a thing you may achieve, mortal. It is forbidden, and well that is so, for you would do terrible things with such a gift, Tom Riddle."

"As you have not, Titania? How many mortals have you slain in your life?"

"Those who have received death at my hands earned it. I do not shed blood of innocents, unlike you. Have you anything more to say before I pass sentence upon you?"

"You are not my ruler, you have no right to pass judgment upon me!"

"Do I not? I claim the right of a debt owed and also, as you humans say, to the victor go the spoils. Your army of dark sorcerers is defeated and you kneel at my feet. You have lost. Defiance and threats shall not save you. You have evaded the justice of my hand for years, Tom Riddle, but now your hour is upon you." She drew herself up to her full height of six feet and a proud terrible majesty rode her features. "This much I shall grant you, the knowledge that your line does not perish with you. But that is all. You once told me you would give up everything to become immortal. Very well then, so you shall keep that promise."

"What do you mean? I don't understand . . ."

"You will." She stepped forward then, and her foot crunched down upon his wand, snapping it in two.

Voldemort let out a howl of agony as his magic was stripped from him.

Titania's lip curled in an inhuman smile. "As you stripped my daughter of her dignity and later her life as well, thus do I strip you of your magic."

She pointed her hand and whispered a few words in the ancient tongue. A bplt of white power shot from her palm and cascaded down over Voldemort.

He gasped, then he began to writhe in pain. He opened his mouth to scream. But all that emerged was the lonely howl of the wind. There was a tremendous flash and his material body was torn asunder, until all that was left were scraps of a black robe, fluttering in a gust of wind.

The fae Queen opened a small flask, one of platinum such as hunters carried upon their belt pouch and chanted. The wind flowed into the bottle and she capped it, then turned to those watching and said, "Wish granted, Tom Marvolo Riddle. You shall live out eternity atop my Lonely Tower, bound to it by a magic as old as time, and your name shall be a curse, never to be forgotten. You are forever immortal, for the wind never dies. Debt paid."

The terrible aura surrounding her winked out as abruptly as it had come, and suddenly the fae Queen smiled. "Now then, let us all rejoice that the minions of the dark are once again defeated." She drew Harry up with one long manicured hand. "Rise, little cousin. I have you to thank for allowing me the chance not only to aid you, but to settle a debt long owed. For that, I am grateful." She smiled down at him, and her smile was warm and gentle as sunlight.

Harry blushed. "You're welcome, Your Majesty."

"You must come to my court for a revel anon." Titania said then. "You and all your family. I shall send a messenger when it is time." She looked at Sarai then and something passed between them.

Severus spoke then, coming forward and kneeling upon the ground. "Your Grace, is V-Voldemort truly defeated? He will not be returning?"

"No, Lord Prince," Titania said, raising him also. "The enchantment I cast upon him was just and final. He will not be back to haunt you or yours, except perhaps in dreams. And for nightmares, you have the best remedy ever, in your dreamweaver friend. You are safe, he will not be returning to gnaw at your family tree. I give you my vow, as Queen and your relative."

Severus bowed to her. "Thank you, Your Grace. Now, at last, we can know peace."

"For now, Severus Snape. Alas, peace is as fleeting as the dawn, most times." She surveyed her warriors. "Any who are injured, please use the portal and return to court. I shall follow you anon. I have a few more accounts to settle. Captain Valinek, bring five of your warriors and attend me."

"As you will, Your Grace," Sarai saluted her monarch with a fist to her heart, then turned and called out the names of five of her warriors. Two men and three women came to stand beside her. At an unspoken signal, they surrounded Titania.

The Queen turned to Severus. "Lord Prince, will you escort me to your Hogwarts school? I have urgent business with your Headmaster."

"It would be my pleasure," Severus said, a small smile of satisfaction curling up his mouth. _Old man, be prepared to be brought down a peg or two!_

The rest of Titania's warriors departed through the portal, which closed itself as soon as they had done so. Then the queen raised her hand and brought it down and all of them vanished from the graveyard to reappear just inside the gates of the school.

Harry rubbed his eyes. "Dad, did we just . . .Apparate? Because you always told me the wards wouldn't allow it."

"The wards aren't strong enough, it would seem, to keep out the High Queen of the Seelie Court," Severus said with a smirk. "She's like a force of nature. Are you all right?"

"Yes. I mean, I'm bruised and scratched up a bit but I'm okay."

"Thank God!" Severus drew Harry into a brief embrace, hugging him so hard he almost couldn't breathe.

But Harry didn't mind for once. He hugged Severus right back, fighting to keep from weeping like a nitwit.

"You're still going to the Hospital Wing after this is over, there's no telling what infection you might develop from being cut by undead claws and whatnot," Severus said, and Harry's tears vanished in a wave of embarrassment.

"Dad, I'm _fine_!" Harry protested. _Merlin, do you have to go all mother hen on me in front of them?_ _Bloody hell, Dad! _A slow flush crept up his cheekbones.

"Fine by whose lights? Not mine. Quit arguing with me."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but slowly closed it when he caught the amused smirks of the fae folk and Philip.

"There is naught so powerful and overprotective as a loving father, young Snape," said Titania, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Treasure it."

Blushing hotly, Harry stepped free of his father's embrace. Grown-ups were all mad, no matter if they were human or immortal. One minute they were treating you like an adult, sort of, and the next they were fussing at you as if you were four instead of fourteen! And smirking when you got annoyed over it!

_:Ai, Harry, don't get your fur ruffled. To the fae, family is the most important thing, and all children are cherished, and a father's love for his child is most precious. 'Tis nothing to be ashamed of:_ Smidgen sent. _:Most of the warriors are parents also and they would be much the same with their offspring.:_

Harry flushed even more. _I'm not, it's just . . .never mind._

Smirking, Severus led the way up the path into the castle. He hoped Dumbledore was prepared to get some unexpected visitors. As they walked, Philip filled him in on the false Moody and what had happened to him before the third task.

SSHPSSHP

_Dumbledore's Office:_

" . . .and so you see, it was all part of my lord's plan. He wished to strike at the heart of Hogwarts, and I wished to get revenge upon my father, the weakling, and to see if I could recruit Igor Karkaroff back to our side. I was successful with the latter and almost succeeding in killing my father. If it hadn't been for that cursed dog and the Snape brats, I would have succeeded. Of course, Ftaher wouldn't remember, because I had to Obliviate him. I would have finished the deed but the bastard vampire interfered with my plans."

"Vampire? I don't understand." Dumbledore frowned. "There are no vampires at Hogwarts."

Crouch senior looked as if he wished to either vomit, cry, or throttle the false Moody. "Faithless son! How sharper than a serpent's tooth is a thankless child!"

Barty Junior laughed. "And what do I have to thank you for, Father? For keeping me under lock and key for years? For making me a prisoner in my own home, by using the Imperius Curse upon me? What would Mother say to see how low you have sunk?"

"Shut your filthy mouth!" spat the elder Crouch. "She died to preserve your unworthy life! What I did, I did for her, as her last request! I would have left you in Azkaban!"

"Yes, I know!" hissed the other, struggling against his bonds. "Unnatural father! Do not quote Shakespeare at me, old man! For you are a tyrant. And I pray daily that you die!"

Dumbledore cut into the family spat. "Barty, did the vampire say how he got here? Who he was?"

"Yes. He told me that he was here to protect Severus Snape's boys. He called himself—"

"Philip Anthony Snape," Phil announced as he entered the room, followed by Severus, Harry, Sarai, Titania, and two of her guard. The other guards she bid to remain outside, to make sure there was no eavesdropping.

The expression upon Dumbledore's face was priceless. Severus suddenly wished he had a camera, for the amount of times Dumbledore had ever been shocked speechless and utterly flummoxed was so rare that Severus only recalled one other time—when Sybill Trelawney had made her cracked prophecy.

Philip came to stand directly in front of the Headmaster, and he was not at all pleased. He eyed the old wizard like a schoolmaster would have a boy who did not learn his assignment. He bared his fangs and said, coldly, "I am and Severus' distant ancestor, and I came here to watch over my family, as it became known to me that they were in danger from a dark wizard who should have been destroyed years ago, before young Harry was even born. Voldemort was your student, Albus Dumbledore, and therefore you must bear some responsibility for not stopping him when he betrayed your teachings. I have heard, since I have been here, of how you are a great practitioner of white magic, how you were the only wizard Voldemort ever feared. How then, if your reputation is to be believed, did you not destroy him when you had the chance? How was it that you failed and it took a mere baby to defeat him the first time?"

Dumbledore blinked, startled by the accusatory tone and also the fact that Philip was practically in his face. "I was not aware that you studied the history of wizards, Mr. Snape."

"Actually, it's _Lord_ Snape to you," Philip drawled.

"Forgive me. I did confront Tom once about his dark ways, but he refused to listen to me. I'm afraid I underestimated his ambition and ability to draw people to his cause. By the time I realized what he had done and become, he had amassed an army. I would have confronted him had I been able to catch him, but he fled and I could not locate him. Then I learned of a prophecy that spoke of a savior, and that one was not me, Lord Snape, but Harry there." Dumbledore quickly rattled off the prophecy Trelawney had spoken.

Philip snarled. "And you would put the fate of your world and your people in the hands of an _infant_? What kind of fool are you? Or are you insane?"

"Neither. Merely a believer in the prophecy spoken. There is a hero chosen for every age, my lord." Dumbledore said quickly. He did not flinch, but he did draw back slightly from the angry vampire.

Philip snorted. "Prophecy was spouted by would-be oracles of every stripe when I was a boy. Armageddon was what they preached back then. Do you know what happened? All of them were proven false. If it were me, I would have made damn sure I had a backup plan in place. I would not have relied upon a mere boy to slay a necromancer. Even if the prophecy was true . . .you didn't seem very concerned with protecting Harry that I could see. His life was threatened multiple times this year and had it not been for my vigilance, your precious savior would be six feet under! If this is how you protect your most valuable student, I would hate to be the one you never noticed! But perhaps it wouldn't matter, since you never noticed Severus' plight as a victim of the Marauders until he almost died. The end result is the same—death. Pitiful! Your negligence is appalling, sir!"

Dumbledore's eyes flashed. "I have always tried to help Harry to the best of my ability. In order to fulfill the prophecy—"

"—he must be kept alive, not thrown into danger year after year! He should have been with his father, not left at the mercy of relatives who despised him and harmed him! You promised him he would be safe at school, and yet you allowed teachers to be hired who had tried to kill him year after year. Like _that_ one!" He stabbed a finger at Barty Crouch Junior, who had now resumed his original appearance. Barty shrank away.

"I regret that I cannot be everywhere at once, but I have not your supernatural powers, Lord Snape." Dumbledore said stiffly.

"Ha! The most supernatural power I possess is my brain, Headmaster. I watch and listen and I put the welfare of my students first. Where was your vaunted Order when Severus and I fought your great enemy tonight? Or were you just going to trust in Fate to bring your hero and your professor safely home again?" His sarcasm was so sharp it could have drawn blood. "You are lucky I am in a good mood, Albus Dumbledore. Or else . . ." For an instant his eyes glinted bloodred.

Dumbledore pale and gulped audibly. "I apologize for endangering your family. If circumstances had permitted-"

"Save the excuses." Philip said coldly. "What's done is done."

"You fought He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Philip?" exclaimed Moody. "Where is he?"

"Lost to this world forever."

"Dead?"

"As good as," the vampire replied.

"Albus, tell these . . .armor-bound idiots to let me pass!" cried Minerva from outside the office. "I've summoned all the Order and now we just need to be told where to go! What is going on in there?"

Titania looked at Smidgen, and the fae cat sent a silent message to allow McGonagall to enter.

The witch burst through the door, and then stopped when she saw who was gathered there. "Great Merlin! Severus! Harry! You managed to escape from You-Know-Who?" Then her gaze fell upon Philip. "A vampire! What is a Nightwalker doing in the castle? And who are the rest of these people?"

"Allow me to introduce you, Minerva," said Severus. He introduced all of them, ending with Titania, of whom he declared, " . . .has given Voldemort the comeuppance he so richly deserves, a justice long delayed, now finally administered. Voldemort is no more, or rather, he is only hot air."

"What do you mean, Severus? Either he is dead or he is not."

"He has been transmuted to wind, good witch," Titania spoke up. "By my spell and my power, he shall remain so for all eternity."

"You are certain, Your Majesty?" Minerva queried, giving the queen a graceful curtsy.

Titania's lips twitched in a half-smile. "I am not certain whether to be amused or offended, Minerva McGonagall. I am no novice spellcrafter, I am over five hundred of your years old and have put paid to many a dark wizard, mortal and immortal alike. There was blood between us, lady, for he cost me the life of my youngest daughter long ago, and it has taken me years to settle the debt, but now it is paid in full. He asked me to grant him immortality as a youth, and now I have done so . . .. .though not precisely as he would have wished. Still, such is the risk you take when you make a bargain and then break it with me." Once more, her jade-green eyes gleamed with that inhuman cold light and the room crackled with ambient magical energy and the temperature dropped a few degrees, or so it seemed.

Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He shrank back instinctively, and felt Severus drape an arm across his shoulder. It was then he found that he wasn't too proud after all to lean against Severus' tall form. Even though he knew Titania wouldn't hurt him, she was still terrifying and imposing. Even Dumbledore scooted back in his chair a bit. Barty Junior looked like he wished he had followed his lord to hell and stared at the Queen of the Seelie in morbid fascination, like a hypnotized mouse watching a cat creeping towards it.

"Your Grace, we are in your debt for having defeated our worst enemy," Dumbledore said smoothly, his blue eyes twinkling. He inclined his head to Titania. "What has become of the other Death Eaters?"

"They are all dead as well, Headmaster," Severus told him. "All those at the graveyard, that is. I am sure there are others hiding. But the only one left of his inner circle is that piece of excrement over there. One which I have a score to settle with." His eyes narrowed.

"Aye, as do I," Alastor said grimly. "Shall we rip the bugger in half then, Snape? Which do you want, top or bottom?"

"Whatever you prefer, Alastor. You have been the most wronged by him," Severus said. "However, before you rip out his guts with an Entrail Removal Curse, allow me to do this."

Before anyone could move, Severus slammed Barty Junior hard in the face with an upthrust palm.

The Death Eater gave a muffled howl as his nose crunched and broke and another as Snape slammed him hard in the stomach. "That was for my sons, you craven bastard. Quit sniveling, boy! You won't need to worry about your broken nose or ruptured spleen for long, since the Ministry will be sending a Dementor to Kiss you shortly. Which is a far quicker death than you deserve. Unless Philip or Moody gets to you first."

"Step aside, Severus," Moody said, pointing his wand.

"Gentlemen, before you punish your traitor, let me conclude my business, if you would?" Titania said. She looked directly at Dumbledore. "The Captain of my Royal Guard told me that you have in your possession an ancient artifact of my people—used by you in your TriWizard Tournament for centuries. But now it is time for it to return to its rightful owners. You say you are in my debt for the defeat of Tom Riddle. The debt may be paid if you return the Goblet of Fire to me."

"You can't do that, Dumbledore!" Crouch senior protested. "The Goblet is Ministry property!"

Titania spun on him. "The Cup belongs to no mortal agency! It is a fae object, made and used by us for uncounted centuries, and lost through treachery. With it I may yet bring peace to my war-torn kingdom. Return it to us, Dumbledore. It never belonged to you in the first place. In doing so you shall have my eternal gratitude. Do not and you will have an unpaid debt to me—and as anyone will tell you, it is unwise to leave a debt unpaid. Especially to me."

Crouch senior sputtered but made no more protests, clearly he had learned that when dealing with monarchs discretion was the better part of valor.

Titania gazed at Albus with hard eyes. "Well?"

A sudden ripple of power raced about the room, toppling books off shelves and shredding papers and shattering vials of potions and the window. Glass glinted upon the carpet, and Fawkes squeaked and dived beneath his perch.

Albus quickly opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a large velvet encased box. Inside was the Cup. "In that case, you may have it back, Your Majesty. Far be it for me to start a war with your people."

Titania took the Cup in her slender hands. "Indeed. Especially a war in which you are not assured of victory. A wise decision." She slipped the Cup into a pouch at her waist. "All debts are paid in full, wizard. Now we shall take our leave, as there are pressing matters to attend to at home. Farewell, wizards of Hogwarts. Farewell, little cousin," she turned to Harry and smiled at him. "We thank you for a much-needed excuse to leave our tax rolls and fulfill an old debt. Do come and see us again sometime."

"Goodbye, Your Majesty," Harry said. "It would be my pleasure."

She inclined her head to him. Then she vanished, as did all of her guard, including Sarai, who shot a regretful look toward's her fiancée before she faded. Only Smidgen remained, quietly grooming herself upon Harry's shoulder.

Everyone save the Snapes exchanged sighs of relief when the fae were gone.

Crouch Senior rounded on Albus. "I cannot believe you just handed over the Goblet as though it were a Quidditch trophy, Albus! The Minister—"

"—will soon see the wisdom of my actions. Bartemius, the fae make very dangerous enemies and Titania spoke the truth. We have been keeping an artifact that we had no right to and it was time it was returned to them."

"At least you have some sense," Philip remarked caustically. "And now, to other business." He stared hungrily at the imposter Moody. "Is there truly a Dementor coming, Severus? Because if not, I can happily dispatch this one."

"That will not be necessary, Lord Snape." Dumbledore coughed. "Arrangements have been made."

"Forgive me, Albus, but I must inform the Order that they are no longer needed now that He—Voldemort is dead. Dead. Finally. I . . .find it hard to believe . . ."

"Here is more proof," Severus declared and rolled up his sleeve. His left arm was no longer branded with the Dark mark, the skin was smooth and unblemished. "Only true death would have removed the magic in this. It is over at last, Minerva."

The Deputy Headmistress smiled and hugged a startled Severus. "And you are alive to see it, old friend, Merlin be praised." Then she drew away and sailed out of the office.

No sooner had she departed, then a cold chill seeped into the room and Harry felt the first ripple of unease and fear as a Dementor approached. He began to shiver violently despite himself. Severus frowned down at him worriedly, then said abruptly, "Harry needs to go to the Hospital Wing to be checked out by Madam Pomfrey. He sustained scratches and bites from the undead that need attention."

"Of course. Harry, I shall see you later along with the other champions to discuss the end of the tournament," Dumbledore said. "Though I fear most people have already conceded the victory to Cedric, as he appeared first with the cup outside the maze."

Harry turned. "Let him have the victory, sir. We were going to share it, but it rightfully belongs to him. I was never supposed to compete. Give it to Hufflepuff. They deserve it."

"Are you sure? Cedric told me that you assisted him there at the end, with the Runespoor."

"I'm sure." Harry said firmly. "How is Fleur? And just so you know, Krum cheated, he attacked Fleur and Cedric in the maze."

"Little skulking bastard!" Moody swore.

"Karkaroff told him to," Harry said then.

"So? If someone told you to jump off the Astronomy Tower, lad, would you do it?" the old Auror asked.

"No, sir. But then, I'm a Snape, and we hardly ever do what we're told."

"You've got that right," said his father. "Come along, Harry. Don't make me drag you by the ear."

Harry pretended to go reluctantly but he was actually glad to not have to be near the Dementor.

Philip appeared at Severus' side and said, "I shall join you shortly."

The two Snapes left the office just as the Dementor flowed up the stairs and through the door.

Harry's teeth chattered and Severus gave him a bar of chocolate. "Here. Eat that, and tell me about the last task."

"Okay, but I . . .uh . . .sort of promised the giant Runespoor that it could come home with me, Dad . . ."

Severus stopped dead. "You did _what_? Harry Albus Snape, I am not running a home for magical misfits—"

"Dad, I had to make a bargain with it in order to get through the last part of the labyrinth. Besides, it wouldn't live in the house or anything, just on the grounds. There's plenty of woods and I'll make sure it understands it can't eat any family members or anything. It needed a home, and I'm the only Parselmouth around."

"Since when does being a Parselmouth entitle you to rescue eighteen foot long Runespoors with bad attitudes?"

"Hey, a bargain is a bargain, Dad. And a Snape always keeps his word. Besides, you're Head of Slytherin and it'll really boost your reputation if you share your home with a giant Runespoor that just might eat cheeky students . . ."

"Humph! We'll see. Now quit dawdling and move your behind, Mr. Snape, or must I pick you up and carry you?" he inquired silkily.

Harry blanched. "Merlin, but you're evil!"

Severus smirked as Harry practically ran down the corridor to the Hospital Wing. Giant snakes had nothing on implied humiliation.

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I couldn't bear to kill Smidgen after all, so she lives!**

**Next chapter: End of term, some fond farewells, and the Snapes return home to Prince Manor for the summer and some more adventures as the heir learns the secrets of the ancient house.**

**Thanks everyone for your votes and interest in Smidgen, it really makes me happy to see how much everyone loves her. **

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	33. Leavetakings

**33**

**Leavetakings**

Once the Dementor had dispatched Bartemius Crouch, Jr., Dumbledore released the body to his grieving father. In the end, even the stoic Crouch had not been able to watch his son die, and had turned away, his shoulder shaking. "Go home, Barty. Go home and bury your child and mourn him." Dumbledore patted the other's shoulder gently. "He was a casualty of war, like so many others."

"Yes. I suppose you could put it that way." Crouch said softly. Then he called, loudly, "Winky!"

The little house elf popped into view. "You has called, Master?"

Barty studied the little elf gravely. "Yes. I . . .acted in haste when I dismissed you before. Would you . . .like to come and work for me again? I cannot . . .will not bond you, but I shall like it if you would return to service. I can pay you—"

"No! No!" sobbed the elf, overcome. "Winky is not taking payment from good master! Winky works for food and drink!" She threw herself at Crouch's feet and wept, clinging to his ankles.

He patted the little creature awkwardly. "There now, Winky. Room and board will be sufficient. All right?"

"Yes, yes! Winky shall serve Master Barty even better than before!"

"Good. Now . . .let us return home. We need to bury my son."

Winky straightened, sniffling, and blew her nose upon a large handkerchief. "Winky must bid goodbye to friends first, then shall come home."

"Ah . . .of course." Crouch snapped his fingers and the body of his only child vanished. "Dumbledore, the Tournament has ended, and as per Mr. Snape's request, you can declare Diggory the winner." He coughed softly. "I . . .must admit, this was the most interesting time I have ever had here. But for now, I bid you adieu, Headmaster."

"Goodbye, Barty. Keep well and do not blame yourself for his fall. We all make our own choices."

Crouch said nothing more, simply headed over to the fireplace and tossed down a handful of Floo powder. "Crouch residence, London!" Then he stepped into the green flames and was gone.

Dumbledore then summoned Minerva, Madame Maxime, Severus, and Ludo Bagman to his office to conclude the outcome of the tournament. Harry's wishes were honored and Cedric was proclaimed the victor, though in truth Harry had reached the cup first. But that fact was known only to himself and Severus. It was Hufflepuff's finest hour, their crowning glory.

He also informed them of Krum's attempt to cheat and dispose of students and said that action disqualified him from ever competing in any magical sports or contests in Britain, which included Quidditch. By then, everyone knew about Voldemort's demise and was celebrating it. They were also hailing Harry and his father as heroes. Dumbledore told them about Karkaroff's demise, how he had returned to his old ways and was killed in battle by Severus.

"I always knew he was no good!" Minerva spat. "Good for you, Severus!"

"He would have killed Sarai," said the Potions Master darkly. "His death was earned a thousandfold. But what about the students from Durmstrang?"

"I have contacted Durmstrang and spoken to their Deputy Headmaster. Roland Valorken is coming to pick them up. He has expressed his sincere apologies for the actions of his colleague and his student, Viktor Krum."

Severus frowned. "Krum needs to be questioned by the Aurors, and if he is found to be a sympathizer of Voldemort, should be watched closely. I believe he may have been brainwashed by his mentor."

"He is of age, if he is found guilty, they could send him to Azkaban," commented Ludo.

Severus shrugged. "That is the jurisdiction of the courts. They may decide punishment as they will."

"Well, maybe they'll go easy on him, all things considered," Bagman said. "They did me."

Severus snorted. "Ludo, you were an idiot, passing information to a Death Eater you thought was a family friend. Krum did worse than that. He deliberately tried to sabotage the tournament and cast Unforgivables upon his fellow wizards. The courts will take that into account, and given his mentor, he won't get off with a mere slap on the wrist like you."

"Good!" put in Madam Maxime. "'e deserves to do time! 'E nearly killed Fleur with 'is curse! Krum was always arrogant and 'e deserves to rot in prison, I say!"

Severus rose. "If that is all, Headmaster . . .?" Dumbledore nodded. "I have some family members that I need to bid farewell to. If you will excuse me . . ."

His black robes swishing dramatically behind him, Snape exited the office.

Bagman looked after the tall wizard and asked curiously, "I say, how does he do that thing with his robes?"

"What thing, Ludo?" asked Madam Maxime.

"Why that billowing thing—you know!" Ludo said wistfully. "My robes never do that. Not even a little. Is it a spell?"

Minerva chuckled. "No, dear boy, that's just Severus. Don't waste your time trying to figure it out—in the thirteen years since he started teaching here, I have never been able to discover how he billows. It's a Snape thing."

"Oh. Bummer."

SSHPSSHPSS

_Snape quarters:_

Harry was relaxing on the couch, Madam Pomfrey had healed him up in a trice and told him to go get some rest, Smidgen snoozing upon his lap, while he sipped some tea and listened to Draco relate what had happened to him while Harry had been competing in the tournament. Harry was shocked and furious that the false Moody—Barty Crouch Jr—had dared to hurt his brother that way. "If he weren't already dead, I'd hex him to pieces. You all right, Dragon?"

"Fine. Lady Julie helped heal me," Draco told his brother, giving the lady in question a smile. She was sitting upon the divan next to the sofa, holding her sleepy twins on her lap, and Philip was sitting next to her with his arm about her.

Next to Draco was Hermione, and on Harry's other side was Katie and Ron was perched upon the arm of the sofa. All of the friends had decided to retire here in order to avoid all the students who kept trying to ask Harry questions about Voldemort as well as Rita Skeeter, like was he really dead this time?

Ron was still in a state of shock. "It's just so hard to believe he's gone. I mean, he's been there for like . . .forever."

"Over twenty years," Phil chuckled. "Which practically is forever to one of you teenagers." He cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. "Draco, as I'm sure you have guessed . . .your father and mother . . .were killed during the battle."

"I know, Uncle Phil. Harry told me." Draco said evenly, meeting the other's violet eyes. "I don't really feel bad. I mean, I know I should, but . . .I stopped thinking of them as my parents when they disowned me. Severus is more my father than Lucius ever was. He always has been. It's almost a relief . . .if it hadn't been for V-Voldemort, they would have rotted away in Azkaban. Now they're gone, I'm the last Malfoy."

"And when you come of age, you'll get all their money and everything." Ron said.

"Yes. Malfoy Manor will be mine." Draco said calmly.

Hearing Draco speak of his inheritance only reminded Harry of how much he missed his own home, Prince Manor. He couldn't wait for term to be over so he could return there. He knew he would not rest easy until he set foot upon the land and felt it welcome him once more.

"So Cedric won the tournament," Ron mused. "That's gotta be the first time Hufflepuff's ever won anything major. I mean, they've never even won the House Cup."

Phil and Harry exchanged knowing glances. "Young Cedric displayed amazing fortitude," said the vampire.

"He did." Harry said quietly. "He deserves the Cup. He would have been the leader if I hadn't had my name put in the Cup by Crouch Jr. So I'm glad he won it."

"It's nice to see a Hufflepuff victory," said Hermione. "And I like Cedric."

"Hogwarts victory is good for me," said Ron. He picked up a strawberry tart off the tray in front of the couch and ate it.

The door opened and Professor Snape entered. His eyes lit upon his sons and he said, "Draco, have you been to see Madam Pomfrey? Professor McGonagall feared you were badly hurt by that madman's Transfiguration spell."

"I'm fine, Dad. Lady Julie healed me." Draco reassured his parent.

Snape then zeroed in on his other son. "Harry, what are you doing out of the Hospital Wing?"

"Madam Pomfrey said I was all healed, and she told me to come down here and rest," Harry told him. "So I'm here."

"It doesn't look like you were resting," Severus frowned severely.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're such a worrywart, Dad."

"None of your cheek, Harry Snape, or else I'll tie you to the bed." Severus scolded.

Siren and Setus giggled at that threat.

Severus turned and gave the twins a smile. "Hello, imps. How do you like Hogwarts so far?"

"It's pretty cool, Uncle Sev," said Setus.

"Can we see a Quidditch match next?" asked Siren wistfully. "Ron says that Quidditch rules."

"Why am I not surprised?" Severus shook his head.

"Maybe next time we visit, your cousins can show you how to play Quidditch," said Julie, with the air of someone who had repeated the same thing about a hundred times.

"Will you?" both little vampires chorused, giving Draco and Harry pleading looks.

"Sure we will." Harry said, and Draco agreed.

"When are we going to see them again, Mama?" asked Siren.

Julie hesitated.

Phil replied to his quiet son. "Sometime next year, perhaps."

"Awww!" groaned the twins. "But Papa . . .that's too long!"

"Next year will be here before you know it," said their father. He looked over at Severus. "Right, Sev?"

"Yes. Enjoy your summer, boys. And you as well, Julie."

"Thank you, Severus. I'm sure it will be a busy one, especially considering that I need to obtain a new Sunstone for my husband."

_:Ah, I think I may help with that, Lady Snape.:_ said Smidgen, having woken up when Severus entered.

"You can?" Philip leaned forward.

Smidgen yawned. _:My Queen bid me give you this as a token of her gratitude in bringing her daughter's murderer to justice. Look over on yon table, my Lord Snape.:_ She indicated the end table next to Hermione.

Phil rose and saw a Sunstone upon a black velvet cord sitting there. He took it and put it on. "Tell Her Majesty I am most grateful for her generosity."

Smidgen purred. _:Titania is a most generous mistress . . .if one is an honest person, as you are.:_

"Does that mean we don't have to play catch at night, Papa?" asked Setus.

"Yes, scamp. Now I can play with you during the day." He ruffled his son's hair. "And now, I fear it is time for me to take my leave of you all. Since the term is ended and you are out of danger, Harry, not only from the tournament, but from your old enemy, and so are you, Draco, and you too, Sev, I have to go. I must say, however, that this has been the most interesting—not to mention troublesome—assignment I have ever had, and I was once bodyguard to Richard III and Elizabeth I." But he was grinning as he said it, his fangs flashing genially. "Still, I am most grateful for the opportunity to have gotten to know you all. There is nothing like family and I shall miss all of you. But alas, all good things must come to an end."

"You will keep in touch, Philip?" asked Severus, astonished to find that he would miss his "elder brother" more than he had thought possible. Philip's advice had always been sound and he had enjoyed having the vampire to bounce ideas off of.

"Of course, Sev." Philip said, and then he embraced the other man. He patted his "brother" on the back and said, "Be well, Severus. And give your lady warrior a kiss from me," he said, smirking, his violet eyes twinkling.

"Rogue!" Severus chuckled. "Take care, Phil." Then he stepped away, going to bud goodbye to Julie and the twins, letting Phil go and say farewell to his sons.

Phil went first to Draco, and gave him a quick hug. "Take care, Dragon. And try not to get involved with anymore crazy witches wanting to marry you."

"I won't," Draco laughed. "Hermione's all the girl I'll ever need." He smiled down upon her. "Thanks, sir, for everything. I'll see you at Christmas, right?"

Phil nodded. "Farewell, Draco. Remember, money isn't the measure of a real man, actions and honor are."

The gray-eyed wizard nodded solemnly. "I know that, Uncle Phil. And next time you see me, I'm going to fence you to a draw."

The vampire laughed. "Oh, indeed? Promises, promises, young one." He gave Draco a friendly cuff upside the head before turning to Harry.

Harry rose and hugged the elder Snape hard. "I wish you could stay longer," he whispered. "But you have your own life to live."

Philip hugged him back. "As do you, Harry. You're the heir to Prince Manor, a great responsibility, but one I know you will fulfill with your usual determination. Now that you no longer have the shadow of Voldemort over you, you too can begin to live. Learn what your father has to teach you about the manor, and celebrate your fae heritage."

"I will, sir." Harry blinked back tears.

"Oh, but don't make any more bargains with kelpies and leprechauns, and try not to drive your father crazy." Phil added, his violet eyes twinkling mischievously.

Harry flushed at the teasing. "Uncle Phil, what do you think I am—a saint?"

Philip laughed. "Not on your best day, nephew! Severus, good luck with this one."

"The both of them conspire on a regular basis to make me insane," said the Potions Master wryly.

"Such is the benefit of sons," the vampire stated. He clapped Harry on the back. "Until next time, Harry. May God watch over you all."

"Goodbye, Uncle Phil." Harry swallowed hard. He would miss the suave and fiercely protective vampire. He had never been afraid when Phil was beside him. "Thanks for protecting me."

"Anytime, Harry. If any of you ever need me, you have but to call or owl me." Then he gave them all a bow before he activated the fireplace and stepped through.

After Julie and the twins had each given Harry and Draco hugs, they too departed.

For a moment they were all silent, sensing that the Snapes were a bit gloomy now that Philip Anthony Snape had departed. But then Ron said, "Harry, you're so lucky, mate. You have the coolest relatives. All I have is a dotty uncle who drools all over himself and an aunt who thinks I'm still six and calls me Ronnie and wants to pinch my cheeks."

Draco started laughing. "Weasley, I would pay Galleons to see that!"

"So would I!" Hermione giggled.

Harry sniggered too, and so did Katie.

"Some friends you are," Ron sulked.

"Mr. Weasley, we all have relatives like that," Severus said, taking a seat upon the vacant divan. "We just choose not to remember them."

"Really?" Ron looked mollified.

Severus let the four teenagers talk some more about all that had happened before the clock struck ten and he ordered everyone except his family from his quarters. "It's growing late and we still have three more days of classes."

All of them groaned and then Katie, Hermione, and Ron left.

"Dad, I forgot about the runespoor!" Harry exclaimed. "I left it in the maze!"

"Harry, I'm sure it's fine. It can take care of itself," Severus said. "You can go and speak to it tomorrow."

"A runespoor? What runespoor? You mean the one you faced in the labyrinth?" Draco queried.

"Yeah, that's the one." Harry said. "I made a bargain with it that if it allowed me to pass, I would give it a decent home on the estate."

"And you said yes, Dad?" Draco cried. "Did he slip a Confusion Draft in your tea?"

"No, but a wizard's word is his bond." Severus replied.

"Merlin's pants! A runespoor! I always wanted one of those for a pet."

"It's not a pet," Harry said.

"Who cares? It's still cool," Draco said. "I can't wait to meet it."

"Tomorrow, boys. Now it's time to go to bed." Ordered their father.

"Yes, Dad."

HPSSHPSSHPSS

Albus Dumbledore finished shuffling through some papers on his desk and was just about to blow out the hurricane lamp perched upon a stack of books when he felt a cold draft upon the back of his neck. He turned, one hand reaching for his wand, only to find himself facing a familiar dark-haired vampire.

"Lord Snape! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" the old wizard exclaimed, startled. "I had thought you returned to your home. Severus said—"

"Severus is not aware of every move that I make, nor every decision." Philip said flatly. "I am here, Albus Dumbledore, to issue a warning. It is the only warning you shall get, so pay close attention." He drew himself up to his full height and he towered over the Headmaster, his black cloak whipping in the invisible breeze.

"I . . .I'm not sure I understand," began Dumbledore. "I was not aware I needed a warning."

"The warning is not _for_ you, but _to_ you. As I said before, I do not tolerate those who bring harm upon my family, knowing or unknowing. You have done both." His violet eyes suddenly shifted to crimson. "Were you any other but who you are, I would have taken your life for what you allowed to occur. Because of you and your _agenda_, Harry and Severus suffered years of abuse, and were scarred for life because of it." His fangs were now showing, and a dark aura suddenly pulsed from him.

Dumbledore backed away, his back pressed against his desk. "Philip, I have already explained that I had no choice and I regret deeply what they went through, but I cannot change the past—"

"No, but you can make damn sure never to repeat it!" hissed the vampire. He lunged and lifted the Headmaster up by his collar, his mouth inches from the wizard's jugular. "I want you to swear Wizard's Oath that you shall never meddle in the lives of my family ever again, not for any reason! Or else I shall regard you as an enemy, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." His breath was hot upon the other's throat. "And you know what I do to enemies, don't you?"

Albus's blue eyes were wide and fearful. For the first time in a very long time, Dumbledore knew the acrid taste of fear. He had faced many foes in his life, but none as implacable and ruthless as Lord Philip Anthony Snape. Not even Voldemort caused him to tremble and sweat this way. He told himself that he did not fear death, but he did fear dying from a vampire's fangs, of being drained of every drop of blood in his body, slowly. He gulped. "That . . .will not be necessary, milord. I shall swear upon my wand, my Name, and the magic within me that I will never bring harm, unknowing or knowing, upon your family ever again."

"Do it!"

Albus grasped his wand and swore the oath. A blue light shot out and wrapped about his hand.

Philip saw the blue flicker of a magical oath bind the wizard and himself. When the light faded from Dumbledore's wand, he relaxed and let the other down. "Well done. Now my business here is concluded, Headmaster." He bowed mockingly. "Good night, Albus Dumbledore."

Then he vanished as silently as he had come, and Albus shivered and rubbed his throat subconsciously, feeling as if the wind of death had passed over him and marked him for its own. He knew then that he had come as close to death that night as he ever wished to be, and only an ancient code of honor had stood between him and a bloody end.

He fumbled in a drawer in a cabinet and drew out a bottle of firewhiskey and a glass. With trembling hands, he poured himself a shot and drank it down. It had been awhile since he had indulged, but tonight seemed like a good time to let whiskey drown his memories and send him to sleep. He only prayed he did not dream of fangs and glowing red eyes.

**Next: The Snapes return to Prince Manor at last, and the summer begins with a lesson on parting the Endless Mist**

**And I hope that you all liked my portrayal of Philip, whose creator was Lady Julie Snape. I thank her for letting me borrow and play with him. But now I shall return her to him. **


	34. Home Sweet Home

**Part Two**

**Return to Prince Manor**

**34**

**Home Sweet Home**

The last three days of classes flew by, filled with rumors and celebrations now that Voldemort was gone. Harry and Severus were interviewed multiple times by Rita Skeeter and her fellow reporter, Amos Jigger, who always offered those he interviewed a jigger of firewhiskey, or in Harry's case, butterbeer. Severus refused, politely, but Harry enjoyed sharing his drink with the lively reporter. The Minister himself came to Hogwarts to congratulate Harry and Severus and proclaimed the Snape family the heroes of the century for finishing off Voldemort. He had commissioned a new statue—titled _Voldemort's Defeat, Snapes' Victory_—to be placed in the Ministry Court of the Fountains. He no longer doubted the veracity of either Snape's or Dumbledore's claim that Voldemort had returned, due to the Veritaserum testimony of Barty Crouch Junior.

The day after the big battle, Cedric came to see Harry in the Great Hall during breakfast. "Snape, mind if I have a word with you? Privately?"

"Sure, Diggory." Harry followed Cedric to the small room just off the hall where the champions had waited to hear the rules of the tournament. "What's this about?"

Cedric cleared his throat and said, sounding a little ashamed, "Well, I . . .just wanted to say how sorry I am that I didn't stand up right away and say that it was you who helped me get through the final task, Harry. But when I showed up, all I wanted to do right then was get help from Professor Snape. But everyone saw me return with the Cup, so they just . . .assumed I'd won the tournament. My House was so happy, and my dad . . .he was just about flying off the ground. . . still I should have told them. It was wrong of me to let them assume that I won. I can go to Dumbledore and tell him what really happened, I don't feel right taking the prize money—"

"Cedric, no." Harry held up a hand. "Don't worry about the tournament, or the prize money. I said before that I didn't really belong in the tournament, I only got in because of Barty Junior's manipulating the Goblet of Fire . . .or as the fae call it, the Cup of Wonders. If not for that, I'd have been watching from the sidelines and rooting for you. Keep the Cup and the money. I don't need it or want it."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. It'll be our little secret." Harry reassured him.

Cedric looked torn.

"But you got us past the runespoor."

"You could have gotten past it as well by putting it to sleep. Don't sweat it, Cedric. Let it be. It's time a House other than Gryffindor had its day. And time someone else got hounded by reporters besides me." Harry grinned at him.

"All right, Snape." Cedric held out his hand and Harry clasped it. "Friends?"

"Friends."

They opened the door and nearly banged into Hermione, who was holding glass jar in her hand. Cedric peered at it. "You collecting bugs now, Granger?"

Hermione nodded. "This is a rare species. Only one I've ever seen."

"Nice." Diggory said. "You ought to show it to Professor Sprout. She enjoys seeing new species of bugs—as long as they're not in her green house or garden." He waved at them and continued into the hall.

Harry cocked an eyebrow at Hermione. "What kind of beetle is it?" The beetle was large, a vibrant green, with odd spectacle-like markings about its eyes. "It's not one I recognize."

"It's one of a kind. A Skeeter beetle." Hermione whispered, yanking him into the little room and shutting the door.

Harry felt his head start to spin. "I don't understand. What are you going on about, Hermione?"

His friend lowered her voice. "Remember when we tried to figure out how Skeeter was getting all the dirt on people she wrote about? How she knew things about people that no one else could? Well, I was watching as you exited the hall with Cedric this morning, and I saw Skeeter slip away from the table and follow you. So I followed her. And when I got here, I didn't see her. I only saw a green beetle upon the door. And then I knew."

"Knew what?"

"Knew that she was an Animagus. Her form's a beetle. See how the beetle's coloring matches her suit? And how her spectacles appear as bands about her eyes? Like McGonagall's do when she changes into a cat."

Harry peered at the captured beetle and saw that it was as Hermione had said. "I know the spell to change her into her true form," he said, and began to point his wand.

The beetle began shaking its head frantically.

"See, Harry. You _are_ Rita, aren't you?" Hermione demanded.

The beetle shook her head.

Hermione scowled. "Don't lie. Harry, cast the spell—"

The beetle began nodding and shaking her head.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Did you hear everything Cedric and I discussed?"

A quick shake no.

"But you did hear most of it?"

A nod yes.

"Were you planning to write an article about it?"

A jerky nod.

Harry's jaw clenched. "You breathe a word about what we spoke of and I'll reveal you as an Animagus, Skeeter. Because I'll bet my arse you're unregistered."

"She is. I memorized all the registered Animagi in Britain. There aren't many." Hermione said. She scowled at the beetle. "You are the sneakiest, most devious, underhanded piece of trash I've ever known. Prying into people's private lives and using that information to plump up your own career! It's just disgusting. Harry, we really ought to report her!"

"Mmm . . ." Harry's lips tightened. Then he slowly shook his head. "We can't, 'Mione. We can't risk it. She knows too much about this last thing, which has to be kept secret."

"All right, but I'm going to make you promise you'll swear to never reveal what you just heard between Harry and Cedric, or else . . .Deal?"

The beetle nodded frantically.

"Good." Then she released the beetle, which jumped away and fled.

Hermione gave him a high five. "Come on, Harry. Let's go and eat, I'm starved."

Once again, Harry entered the hall and sat down at the table. He thanked God that the house elves had kept his breakfast hot. _Well, that's one mystery solved,_ he thought as he chewed a piece of bacon. Hermione made a good detective.

"Where were you?" asked Ron, only then realizing Harry was not in his usual spot.

"Off catching bugs with Hermione," Harry said glibly.

"Huh? What bugs?"

"Tell you later. Just eat," Harry ordered and then started eating.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

"You gotta be _kidding_!" Ron spit crumbs all over when he heard Harry tell him about Rita's secret. "I never would have guessed she was a—"

"Shhh, Ron!" Harry hissed. "Nobody but us can know."

"Oh, right." Ron swallowed. "Sorry."

"Gryffindors!" Draco snorted. "Can't keep a secret to save their souls."

"Harry and I can," Hermione said indignantly.

"And so can I," said Katie.

"That's 'cause you two are girls with brains and Harry's a Snape," Draco stated. "Speaking of Snapes, when are you going to show me the runespoor, Harry?"

"Now," Harry said, pushing back his plate. "I'm finished."

"What runespoor?" asked Ron. "They're really rare, I've never seen one before."

"Follow me then."

Draco, Ron, Katie, and Hermione all rose and gathered up their things, they had no classes right then and no real homework either.

Harry led the way to the Quidditch pitch, where the labyrinth was. It still stood, and Harry cautiously led the way inside. He passed through the small space where the Cup had stood upon the pedestal and through the oaken door. He glanced about, and spotted a large nest of dried leaves and sticks. He hissed a low greeting to the runespoor.

A head poked its way up from the nest sleepily.

"Who calls?" Azella hissed.

"It's me, Harry Snape," Harry said in Parseltongue. "Remember how I promised you I would come back and take you to a place where you could live in peace and raise your little snakelings?"

"Ah, yes-s-s! Young wizard, you have kept your promise!" Azeal said, sounding satisfied.

"For once, a human has done as he promised!" declared Ashterith, then he gave Harry a pointed glare. "But mus-s-t you wake us-s-s at the crack of dawn, S-s-peaker? We like to s-s-sleep till noon, then we can s-s-sunbathe."

All three heads were peering from the nest now, and then the runespoor moved, undulating up out of the nest so it was facing Harry, curled and looped about itself like a scaly ball of string. The three heads nodded and swiveled about, tasting the air with their forked tongues.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were all right." Harry said. "And my friends and brother wished to meet you."

"Oh?" all three heads thrummed. They all looked towards the door, where Draco, Hermione, Katie and Ron were standing, slack-jawed.

"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Ron, bug-eyed. "You never told me it was _giant_ runespoor!"

"Oh my goodness! It's almost as tall as you, Harry." Hermione observed. "I wonder how it grew that big?"

"S-s-silly girl!" laughed Azeal. "A s-s-snake never s-s-stops growing. We grow as big as nature allows-s-s us-s!"

Harry translated Azeal's words to the others.

"How old is he?" asked Draco. "Or is it she?"

Harry turned and asked the runespoor Draco's questions, even though he was almost positive the snake understood human speech. He didn't mind translating, it gave him a chance to use his language skills.

"We are about a century old, as-s-s you two-legs measure time. And s-s-ince we are two males and one female, you may refer to us-s-s as he."

"Oh. Okay. What's your name . .. err . . .names?" Draco asked.

That one Harry didn't need to translate. "The right head is named Azeal, the middle is Azella, and the third is Ashterith."

"We're pleased to meet you, Azeal, Azella, and Ashterith," said Katie, and she bowed to the snake.

The runespoor preened. "Ahh . . .how nice it is to be appreciated!"

"That's my . . .err. . .soon to be mate," Harry told the snake, there was no word for "girlfriend" in Parseltongue.

"A good choice!" said Ashterith.

"S-s-he s-shall bear you many young," Azella said frankly.

"Uh . . .yeah . . ." Harry trailed off, blushing. He had forgotten how blunt snakes were when it came to discussing acts of reproduction.

"And s-s-he is res-s-spectful to us-s." Azeal said approvingly.

"What are they saying, Harry?" asked Katie.

"That they like you and thanks." Harry translated briefly.

"What a lovely color he has!" Hermione said admiringly. "The orange scales are like flame and the black are like night. Very handsome!"

The runespoor preened. "We s-s-how even better in the s-s-sun!"

The snake twisted and turned so they could all admire the way the sun lit his scales.

"But Harry, how are we going to take a snake this size along with us?" Draco pointed out. "Dad can't Apparate something that size along with us. And we can't fly."

Harry was at a loss. He had never considered how they were going to transport the runespoor. "Umm . . ."

Ashterith cocked his head. "Hmmm . . .S-s-speaker . . .that should not be a problem. We can reduce our s-s-ize."

"You can? You have magic?"

"A bit," said Azella. "Watch!"

The runespoor began to glow and then it started to shrink, becoming smaller and smaller until it was the size of a king snake. "There! I can fit in your pocket," hissed Azeal, and Harry knelt and the runespoor slithered up his arm and arranged itself about Harry's neck, beneath his collar.

Harry and his friends headed back inside. "Would you mind staying in my quarters for the rest of the day? People aren't too comfortable around snakes."

Azeal sighed. "As-s-s you wish."

"People fear us-s-s as a symbol of evil. I don't understand it," Azella said mournfully. "We eat the vermin that bring disease and would eat your food."

"People are s-s-stupid!" Ashterith spat.

The runespoor curled up on Harry's pillow and Harry smiled before heading to class.

HPSSHPSSHP

The morning of the last day of term arrived and Harry woke early and took the runespoor out with him on his morning walk, letting the snake hunt its breakfast in the grass. The runespoor was still in its small shape, and it could eat mice or small birds. It had told Harry it rarely became its larger form, because it was difficult to find food in that form, though Harry assured it there were plenty of deer and wild boar on the estate.

While the runespoor hunted, Harry walked along the path to Hagrid's cottage and then around to the Black Lake. He was a few feet away from the ebony water when he saw a most astonishing sight. Luna Lovegood, standing with her bare feet in the grass, wearing a rather misty gown of green and gold, rather like a sundress, her long hair blowing every which way, embracing a tall dark man.

He wore black, a tunic and trews, down to his polished boots. Harry knew him, of course. It was Duncan Wavestrider, the kelpie who had aided him in translating an ancient scroll and who had also escorted Luna to the Yule Ball. Harry had thought the two made the perfect couple, despite Duncan's attraction to Katie initially. And now he had been proven right, as the two embraced and shared a farewell kiss.

Luna had to stand on tiptoes to kiss him, but Duncan didn't seem to mind. He simply lifted her in his arms, never ceasing.

Harry blushed and turned away. But he was glad Luna had finally found someone who appreciated her. He wondered if Duncan could see wrackspurts and whatever else Luna seemed to see. One thing he did know. The kelpie would remain faithful to Luna, it was how he was. Some fae could be flighty, but most were constant once they had given their word, if they were honorable, like Sarai and Duncan.

Then he turned and continued his morning stroll, returning to the Great Hall an hour later. The banners in the hall were all black and yellow, Hufflepuff colors to honor Cedric and his victory. Harry ate a sausage and egg sandwich only and a glass of pumpkin juice, for he preferred to eat light when Apparating, since that mode of travel still tended to make him queasy on occasion.

He bid farewell to his friends after Dumbledore's final speech had comcluded, promising to write and Katie promised to invite him and Draco and Severus to her house in a week or two.

"Here."Harry whistled for Frost and the young snowy flew immediately to his shoulder. "Take Frost, so you won't forget to write. She knows the way to and from Prince Manor, she was born there."

Katie's cheeks went pink. "You're giving her to me? To keep?"

"Yeah. I love her, but . . .you need her more than I do, since your Blue Streak is getting on in years."

"Streak belonged to Mum before me," Katie murmured. "He really should be retired from duty. Sometimes he gets lost and letters take days to get delivered."

"Well, Frost's a great owl. And I don't use her as much as I should, 'cause I don't want to neglect Hedwig." Harry said.

"Thank you, Harry! I love her!" she stroked Frost's chest and the snowy rubbed her head against her new mistress and trilled.

Katie leaned over and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. "You're so sweet, Snape! And I'm lucky that I have you."

Harry ducked his head, blushing, for he still hadn't learned how to take a compliment gracefully. "You're welcome!"

Draco smirked knowingly. "He got that from me," he whispered to Hermione. "I taught him everything he knows about romance. Except this," then he leaned over and kissed her. "That he had to figure out himself."

Hermione turned the shade of a blushing tea rose and said, "Malfoy, you are too much!" Then she kissed him back.

Ron received a perfumed note from Zara, his French date for the ball, promising that she would write to him over the summer and never forget him. He blushed red as a strawberry when Draco twitted him about his French amour. But he sniffed the note, grinned, and then tucked it away. Harry just hoped the twins never found it, they would make Ron's life hell.

They all rose and went to fetch trunks and boxes and duffels from their rooms. Harry met Severus and Draco in the Entrance Hall, his trunk floating along behind him. Hedwig's cage on his arm and the runespoor safely in his pocket.

"Are you all set?" asked Severus. Smidgen was perched calmly upon his shoulder, serene as always, her crooked wing folded flat against her side.

"Yes, Dad," said his sons.

"Good. Shrink your belongings then and put them in your pockets and we shall be on our way." He held Cafall's leash in his hand, the misthound was sitting calmly at his feet.

They obeyed, and together they walked past the gates of Hogwarts and Severus took both their arms and Apparated to the Lonely Moor.

The moor was the same as Harry remembered it—bleak, cold, and without a tree or shelter in sight. The mist curled and shifted about his feet.

Then it grew thicker and thicker and Harry shivered at the unnatural chill it exuded. Draco was watching as Severus walked a few paces, holding his Staff of the Magi, and then the black-clad sorcerer halted and looked over at Harry.

"Harry, now is as good a time as any for you to practice parting the Endless Mist. Come over here."

Harry looked uneasy, but went over to where Snape stood, the misty tendrils climbing up his legs like ivy. "What do I do?"

"Hold your medallion in your left hand and concentrate upon it. Feel the connection it bears to Prince Manor. Focus your mind on how it makes you feel and picture it in your mind." Severus instructed. "The mist is linked to the manor and it will feel that you belong."

Harry obeyed, slipping the medallion free and holding it and then concentrating upon his home, which he had missed terribly. He pictured the manor house and the orchard and the fish pond, he pictured the orchard where he and Draco had once raced their brooms and where he went and picked purple heart-shaped merlinnas at dawn.

_Home. Home. I want to go home._

He felt the connection flare deep within him.

The mist suddenly wreathed him.

"Good, now lift your hands up, as if you were conducting an orchestra." Snape instructed. "That's it. Now speak the words _Part for Me _in Latin and then bring your arms down quickly."

Harry copied the other's swift sure movement and felt the mist stir.

It seemed reluctant to obey him and he said, "Dad, it's not working."

"It is, but it's slow because your will isn't focused enough, Harry. Do it over."

Harry did it over three times before the mist finally decided to part for him, revealing the wrought iron gate with its depression for an amulet to rest, one that only he and Severus possessed.

Harry glanced at his father. "Do you want to do the honors?"

"My pleasure," Severus said and then he pressed his own amulet to the gate and liquid silver slowly flowed across the wrought iron gate and made the bars glow.

The gates swung open.

Harry could feel the siren call of the manor even before he stepped through the mist and on to his land. He could not resist, and so he bounded ahead of his father and brother, feeling the land welcome him back with each step. _The Heir has returned! The Heir has returned!_

Harry was grinning broadly. "Yeah, I sure have. Hey, I wondered if I might see Sev Prince around here?"

The flowers giggled and hushed him.

_"He's still here, somewhere_," whispered the wind.

Since the ghost was bound to the land, he couldn't leave , but he could make himself unseen and scare people when he chose.

Harry felt the latent magical power in the earth rise up and enter him and he almost burst with joy. He could feel the land and all the things that grew and lived upon it. He wanted to run around in circles like a crazy idiot, or a mad dog, he wanted to roll about on the ground and laugh till he was breathless.

He was home at last and it felt wonderful.

"Draco and I are going into the house to unpack. Why don't you stay out here for a bit and see if you can't find Azeal, Azella, Ashterith a new home?"

"I was just going to do that. Are you reading my mind now?"

"Hardly. It's a logical assumption." He ruffled Harry's hair playfully. "Meet you back at the house, son. Then we can have a bite to eat and you can start on your summer assignments."

_"Dad! No!"_ they cried in horror.

Severus smirked. "Only kidding."

Harry headed towards the orchard, which was heady with the scent of peaches, pears, apples and oranges. He knew there would be merlinnas come the next dawn.

He walked through the orchard, picking a peach and eating it, letting the sweet juice erupt in his mouth and dribble down his chin. Everything here tasted so good, it was part of the fae magic, which kept everything young and in bloom and tasty.

He walked right up to the woods and removed the runespoor from his pocket. "Here's your new home. Just be careful, because there are some dangerous animals in here. Fae and not. I'm sure you'll like it."

The runespoor looked about, eagerly surveying its new domain. It began to shimmer and then it was nearly the same size as a python. Slowly it began to make its way deeper into the wood, after hissing a farewell and a thank you.

"We s-s-shall s-s-see you s-s-soon!" called Azeal.

"Once we find a proper nest!" added Azella.

"And s-s-some game to eat," reminded Ashterith. "Farewell for now, S-Speaker S-Snape!"

Harry watched it go, wondering when he would see it again, then he turned and made his way back to the manor.

HPSSHPSSHP

One large submarine sandwich later and a glass of merlinna juice, Harry was stuffed and longing to take a nap. Since Severus didn't have a list of chores or a summer chore schedule up yet, Harry knew he could do just that, and he headed to his bedroom. He halted just before it and called, "Uh, Dad? Are Draco and I still sharing a room?"

"No. You are off that punishment and can now have your own rooms back." Severus replied, still nursing a cup of chamomile.

Draco and Harry yipped in glee and then they retreated to their rooms to unpack, or in Harry's case, sleep.

Smidgen joined him a moment later and curled up next to him upon his pillow.

Draco shook him awake in time for supper, which was simple, soup and a bacon and tomato grilled cheese, since Draco cooked it.

Smidgen had a tiny saucer of milk with honey, a bit of bacon and bread and cheese.

After supper, Harry washed the dishes and then they settled about the couch to read or discuss what had gone on with the tournament.

Finally, Harry felt his eyes growing heavy and he yawned. "Good night all. I need to get some sleep."

"Night, Harry."

"Good night, son."

_:Sleep well, Harry. The manor welcomes you home:_

Harry made his way to the bathroom and after he'd finished his toilet, went to bed. He snuggled beneath the cool sheets and thought happily—_Home sweet home at last!_

He slept deeply and in his dreams he met Sev Prince, his half-fae ancestor again, who was also the Guardian spirit of Prince Manor.

_Harry found himself sitting beneath a merlinna tree in the orchard and before him stood a tall man with his long dark hair pulled back in a tail, wearing clothing from the medieval period, black trews, a long silver tunic with a bright blue shirt beneath, and eyes as green as Harry's own. "Well met again, young Snape. You have finally returned to Prince Manor. Are you done with your wandering for now?"_

_"Sev!" Harry leaped up and into the elder Prince's arms. "Yes, I am, and it feels so good to be back."_

_Severus Prince smiled, his pointed ears poking delicately from his hair. "I know exactly how you feel. No matter what wondrous sights I saw or what new things I encountered in my travels, there was no place to compare with my home. Not even the palace of the fae Queen herself." He hugged his chosen heir tightly. "Welcome back, Harry. It is good to have both the Heir and Heir Apparent here at the same time. The land rejoices." He bent and gave the boy a light kiss on the forehead. "Go now, child, and sleep well."_

Harry half-woke, saw it was still night, and fell back to sleep. All was quiet and no rumbling snores disturbed his rest. He slept deeply and peacefully and woke when the dawn just touched the tops of the trees.

He leaped out of bed, hopped upon his broom, and flew out to the orchard with a small carry sack. He began picking merlinnas until he had a sack full and then he went back inside. Draco was still snoozing, so he wouldn't have to fight him for first dibs on the shower. Sometimes it paid to be an early riser.

**Now that they're home for the summer, the fun will start!**

**Next: After a week of doing summer assignments-yes, Sev insisted they get them done and over with-the boys are more than ready to take the Floo to Devon and visit Katie and her family for the weekend. Whta new adventures await them aboard Katie's clipper? Plus a surprise guest is there! Who do you think it is?**


	35. Come Sail Away

**35**

**Come Sail Away**

_One week later:_

Harry looked up from his History of Magic assignment and thought it a relief to finally be finished with his summer homework. After a day or two of allowing his sons to relax, their perfectionist professor father had decided that they needed to start on their summer homework.

Ignoring their groans of protest, Severus stated, "No arguments, no whining, just do as you're told, boys. The sooner you get those assignments out of the way, the more time you'll have to do what you really want. I won't have you struggling to complete your homework a mere week before the new term begins. Now get out your books, quills, and parchment. You have two hours of study time a day. Complain and I'll double it and make you do the laundry by hand."

They subsided after that dire threat. Doing the laundry by hand was one of the worst punishments ever invented, since Prince Manor did not have a modern washer and dryer, only a very old hand wringing washing machine and a clothesline. They had done the laundry by hand for weeks last summer and neither Draco nor Harry ever wished to repeat the experience.

"Why do we have to get stuck with an educational drill sergeant for a father?" grumbled Draco once Severus was safely out of earshot. "We just got home and he's already making us do _assignments_! Merlin's bloody quill!"

"Did you really expect he wouldn't?" Harry asked, sharpening a quill. "You've known him longer than I have, Dragon. Now hush, and just read or whatever. I don't want him to come in here and give us double study time and laundry, do you?" He knew that his brother just liked to blow off steam complaining, but he didn't want to suffer for Draco's mouth.

Draco shuddered. "Hell, no! One summer was enough! I thought I'd be crippled for life." He picked up his Charms book and started reading the chapter.

By the time the week ended, Harry was rather glad Severus had insisted upon them doing the assignments right away. Not only were they done and over with, but he found he actually recalled the class lessons so it didn't take him ages to remember something, as it would have at the end of the summer.

Sunday night, he was walking over near the pond, where Draco was happily fishing, and he saw Frost winging her way towards him. His mouth split in a grin like an alligator's. "It's Katie! She's finally written to me!" he told his brother excitedly.

"Pipe down, Harry!" said Draco irritably. "You're scaring the fish with your loud mouth."

"Oh. Sorry. Guess I got carried away," Harry said in a quieter tone. Frost landed neatly on his shoulder, Harry fed her a treat and stroked her. "Hey, girl. How do you like your new mistress? Bet she pays you lots of attention, huh?" He gently took the envelope from her left talon." Thank you. Will you wait for a reply?"

Frost trilled an affirmative.

Harry tore open the envelope. It was from Katie.

_Dear Harry,_

_Hope your summer is going well. I just finished all my summer work, wanted to get it out of the way. Now it's done and I can fix up my little clipper ship, that's a small sailboat, and take her out to go crabbing and fishing. Remember I promised I'd invite you over for the weekend_? _Well, how does Saturday, Sunday, and Monday morning sound? My dad and mum aren't doing anything and look forward to meeting you and Draco and Professor Snape. Please do say you'll come! My address is Sandpiper Lane, Devon. It's right by the sea. You can Floo there. Smidgen is welcome too!_

_How is your Runespoor doing?_

_I really love Frost, she's so cool!_

_Love,_

_Katie_

"So . . .what'd she say?" drawled his brother, sticking his pole in the ground and leaning back upon his elbows lazily. "Did she find another boy that was better looking than you?"

Harry pretended to look offended. "Of course not! I'm a Snape, and we're all chick magnets."

Draco laughed softly. "I really can't argue with that. You going to tell me what she said, or do I have to play twenty questions?"

"She said she wants us to come for the weekend and meet her parents and go out on her boat. We're all invited, even Smidgen." Harry was beaming. "Think Dad will say yes?"

"Why wouldn't he? We're not grounded and we finished all our homework."

"I know, but I was thinking that maybe he needed to teach me more about the manor or something."

"Why don't you go and ask him and let me fish in peace. I can't concentrate when you're talking."

"Oh, like you're concentrating now," Harry mocked. "You look so busy, brother."

"I am. Busy calling the fish."

"Right. Tell me another one."

Suddenly a fish leaped up and down and tugged on Draco's line.

"Told you so," his brother said smugly, and began to reel it in.

"Damn! How'd you do that?"

"Natural talent." Draco gently eased the fish through the water.

"You going to fish on Katie's boat too?"

"Do wizards use wands?" Draco snorted. "I can't believe you asked me that."

Harry shook his head, only then realizing how stupid that question was. "Never mind, I'm going to ask Dad." He took off running towards the house, leaving his brother to land the struggling trout.

Severus read Katie's letter and then said, "I would like to speak with her parents first before I agree to this. I don't want us arriving unannounced and unexpected."

"Okay. I guess you can Floo them or something."

"I'll go and do that." Severus said.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

Edward and Marissa Bell assured Severus that it was perfectly all right to come for a visit for the weekend. They looked forward to it. "We have heard nothing but good things about you and your boys since Katie's been home," Marissa said. "We would be honored to have you stay at Misty Mount."

"Then I shall accept, and thank you." Severus said. "What time shall we come?"

"Oh, why not come around eleven? We'll have lunch on the veranda." Marissa said.

"Eleven it is."

Harry went to pack as soon as Severus told him the good news. He found Smidgen snoozing on the window ledge in a patch of sunshine. "Smidgen, we're going to visit Katie, would you like to come?"

Smidgen yawned. _:I see in your thoughts that her home is by the sea. I have never been overfond of salt water, Harry. Besides, with my wing injured, I dare not travel far from the manor. Here I am safe from predators, but out there . . .Forgive me, Harry, but I must decline. I simply need a rest. The battle took more out of me than I thought.:_

"Oh . . .okay. Have a nice rest then." Harry said, tossing some of his clothes into a duffel. He was so excited he was practically walking on air. He couldn't wait to see his Katie again.

SSHPSSHPSS

_Misty Mount_

_Saturday June 30th:_

The Snapes stepped from the Floo into a large wood-paneled room that reminded Harry of a captain's cabin, since the walls were decorated with various seaman's gear, plus a gigantic mounted sailfish. A coil of rope was mounted on an opposite wall and also a plaque citing an award for Best Sea Wizard of 1993. There was a large seascape across from the fireplace where the ocean really moved and roared and the wind blew and a boat rocked upon the waves. The furniture was made of wood and a thick blue and white striped canvas with huge fluffy throw pillows. A low rattan table was in front of the large sofa and it had a tray with a pitcher of lemonade and a pot of tea plus cups and saucers and sugar and cream. A stair wound its way upwards off to the left and to the right was a large sliding glass door that led out to a lovely cedar veranda.

Hurricane sconce lamps lit the room and a fan spun about in the ceiling, cooling the air in broad sweeps.

A tall woman with blond hair hanging in a long braid down her back entered the room. She wore casual white capris and a long green tunic. Green enamel starfish hung from her ears and she smiled welcomingly at Severus, Harry, and Draco. Her deep blue eyes twinkled merrily. "Hello, I'm Marissa. Welcome to Misty Mount."

She came over and shook all of their hands and Severus introduced her to his sons.

"Ed is out on the _Sea Lady_, fishing for our lunch," Marissa said. Then she looked up the stairs and called, "Katie, the Snapes are here!"

"Coming, Mum!"

A few moments later, Katie descended the stairs, she was dressed in a sweet ocean blue swimsuit with matching sandals and a white terrycloth robe.

Harry's eyes nearly fell out of his head. He had never seen Katie in anything except her school or Quidditch uniform and the swimsuit really revealed her fine looking body, fit and trim and her long legs. _Merlin! She's so hot!_

"Harry! Professor! Draco! You're here!" Katie cried, and practically flew down the last few stairs.

She got to Harry first and threw her arms about him and hugged him. "I know it's only been a week, but I've missed you so much!" She gave him a kiss, a very small one, on the cheek.

"Missed you too," he whispered, then he hugged her back.

She withdrew a few minutes later and gave Draco a hug too and then she ven hugged Severus, saying, "Welcome to my home, I'm so happy you came! We're going to have such fun this weekend!"

"Katie, why don't you show the Snapes where they can put their things?" suggested Marissa.

"Right. This way, up the stairs to starboard. That's sailor talk for the right of a ship." Katie explained at Draco's frown. "Oh, and there's a surprise waiting for you inside." She indicated a large room to the left. "I hope you don't mind sharing. This room is big enough for four people, its where my cousins used to stay when they visited for awhile."

She threw open the door to the room.

Sitting on a chair next to a rolltop desk was Hermione.

She was also dressed in a swimsuit, only hers was pink with small flowers and she had pulled her bushy hair back into a tail. Her robe was pink and matched her suit and so were her flipflops.

She jumped up when she saw them. "Hi, Draco!"

"'Mione! _You're_ the surprise?" he gasped, pulling her into his arms.

"Yes. Like it?"

"I love it!" he laughed, and bussed her lightly on the mouth.

Hermione colored a little, then she turned to greet Harry and Severus.

"Hello, Miss Granger. Enjoying your summer?" Severus asked, an amused gleam in his eye.

"Yes, sir! Err . . .Katie, why don't we go downstairs and see if your mum needs help."

"Okay. There's some refreshments in the den and Dad ought to be back with the catch of the day in an hour. I hope you all like seafood."

"We do," Draco said. "And I can't wait to see your boat, Katie."

"I'll show her to you after lunch." Katie promised, then the girls withdrew, leaving the men alone to unpack.

"Dad, did you know Hermione would be here?" asked Draco. "You didn't seem really surprised when you saw her."

Severus waved his wand at his bag and it started to unpack itself. "Hermione has a tendency to show up in unexpected places."

"You knew!" Draco accused.

"I suspected," Severus corrected, ignoring the indignant looks his son was shooting him behind his back.

Harry smothered a giggle and said, "What's the big deal? Aren't you glad Hermione's here?"

"Of course I am. It's just . . .oh, never mind!" Draco huffed and then he started to unpack too.

The room had two large fourposters, covered in a soft blue wave pattern, and the furnishings were sturdy maple, two armoires, two long dressers with a mirror between, plus the desk and two chairs and a chaise. There was even an attached bathroom.

"Nice," Harry murmured appreciatively. "Very nice."

HPSSHPSSHPSS

After a delicious lunch of fresh caught sea bass and a cucumber salad, chips, lemonade and tea and crumpets, the four teenagers bid farewell to the adults and went down to the dock to see Katie's sailboat. Ed, Katie's father, a large man with a shock of dark hair and sunbrowned skin who was quite dashing, called after them, "If you decide to take her out, let me know, Katie girl. The weather's due to shift, I can sense it."

Edward was a Sea Wizard, meaning he specialized in magics dealing with the ocean, wind, weather, and sea creatures. He could calm a sudden squall and sail any sort of craft and he loved fishing. Draco was tempted to stay and talk with him some more, for it was rare he met another wizard who shared his passion for fishing, but he didn't want to be a bore and he dearly wished to spend time with Hermione.

"Will do, Captain," Katie called over her shoulder. "All us Bells call my dad 'captain', cause he's the best Sea Wizard among us. He won that award hanging in the den."

The boys were suitably impressed. "Why is your house called Misty Mount?" asked Harry curiously.

"Because we're on an overlook that gets tons of mist in the morning. You'll see what I mean tomorrow."

They picked their way down a long trail to a long weathered wood dock where a sleek white with red and blue striped sailboat was tied. She flew a Union Jack and blue flag with a golden bell surmounted by a leaping dolphin embroidered on it. "That's the Bell crest. And here's _Sea Treasure_, my pride and joy." Katie gestured at the sailboat.

Draco whistled at the trim craft, twenty-eight feet from stem to stern, with four sails, a small bridge, and a cabin and hold beneath. "She's wicked, Katie! How's she sail?" His voice, while admiring, was also tinged with envy.

"Like a dream." Katie chuckled, and then she hopped easily over the rail and onto the boat. "Come on over, guys!"

Once they were all on the boat, Katie said, "Welcome aboard! Over here's the wheel, and the cabin, and the hold's fully stocked with provisions and everything. Here's the life buoys and a rowboat, just in case we capsize . . ."

"Capsize?" Hermione said worriedly.

"Which has never happened. I'm a good sailor."

"How long have you had her?" asked Harry.

"Since I was fourteen. She was a birthday present. I've never loved anything like I love her . . .except you," she added impishly. "I've been on boats since I could walk, so the sea's no stranger to me, but its different when you have your own ship and are mistress of her."

"You fish on her?"

"Yup. And crab too. Would you like me to take her out?" Katie asked, her eyes glowing.

All of them nodded eagerly.

"Okay, let me tell the Captain." Katie said, and she pulled out a mirror made from a polished purple oyster shell. She laughed at their expressions. "This was Dad's idea. He's so old-fashioned." She breathed upon the mirror to activate it. "Captain, we'll be going out for a little while."

They could not hear Edward's reply, but Katie answered, "Aye, aye, sir. We won't be out for more than three hours." Then the mirror went dark and she stuffed it back in its pouch and stowed it in a small chest attached to the deck. "Okay, better take your seats," she waved to the upholstered benches built into the side of the boat. "We're heading out."

They all sat down, even Draco, though Harry could tell he was itching to stand up on the bridge and see how Katie maneuvered the clipper. She climbed about the boat with the ease of a monkey, casting off the lines, unfurling the sail with a quick gesture, and then hopping up to the bridge to take the wheel and set her course.

It was a beautiful sunny day, seagulls flew overhead, singing a raucous chorus, and the wind filled the sails and reminded Harry of plump pillows. Slowly, the ship started to move. Draco twisted about and peered over the side, looking for fish or something.

"Draco, be careful you don't fall over," cautioned Hermione.

"'Mione, I'm just looking, not leaning. Don't worry." He inhaled a deep gulp of the sea air. "Ahhh! I should have been born a Viking. Or a Sea Wizard. I love the ocean. How about you, Harry?"

"Uh . . .it's the first time I'm even seeing the ocean. I'll tell you how I feel later, when we're back on land." Actually, he was starting to feel a bit queasy from the rocking and swaying and from the look of things, so was Hermione.

Draco saw and dug in his pocket for a potion. "Here, you two. Drink a swallow or two of this." He passed Hermione the potion first.

"What is it?"

"Motion Sickness Draft. Try it. It'll keep your lunch where it belongs."

She uncorked the vial and drank. Immediately she felt better. "Thanks, Draco. That really helped. Although I don't know why I felt nauseous. I've been on boats before. My dad used to always take me on the dentist outings and we sometimes went fishing and I never felt this way."

"Were those fishing boats sailboats?" asked Draco.

"Uh, no. They had motors."

"That's why then."

She handed Harry the potion and he drank it. It tasted like chamomile tea and ginger. Once it began to work, he could sit back and relax. He kept an eye on Katie, who handled the boat like a pro, her movements swift and economical. Much like the way she played Quidditch. Only handling _Sea Treasure _was much harder than flying a broom. Her competence made him admire her even more. He discovered he liked her independence, the fact that she took charge and didn't look to him to make decisions, the way Ginny had.

That was one of the many reasons, besides the fact that he just wasn't attracted to the youngest Weasley , that a relationship between Ginny and him wouldn't have worked. Ginny looked up to him and admired him, like a hero. But that was not what he wanted or needed. He needed a girl capable of steering her own course, to use a sailing expression, and to tell him when he was wrong without compunction. He also needed a girl who could accept his odd little family, and he knew from overhearing Ron talking to the twins that Ginny distrusted Draco still and didn't really care for Severus either. And Harry refused to go out with a girl who had reservations about his family. He had waited too long to have one to allow a girl to disrupt their lives.

With Katie, that was not a problem. She had no prejudices with Slytherins or vampires, ghosts and all. Which was, after all, the most important thing.

The wind blew a small amount of sea spray into his face and it felt good. The ocean seemed to stretch on forever as they drew away from the inlet and headed into the blbreakers, but soon they were out far enough to not get jostled.

Harry peeked at Hermione and Draco, who were snuggled together, and seemed oblivious to anything but each other. Which was rare for Draco, given his passion for fishing, and rarer still for Hermione, who usually had her nose buried in a book. His mouth twitched in a smile and then he stood up and made his way to the bridge.

"Are we going to some big fish haven soon?"

"Yes We're almost there and then I can break out my crab traps and fishing gear. How are you liking it so far?"

"It's great! How fast can she go?"

"Very fast," Katie said. "This sort of ship was a sailboat racer and later a cutter to bring home smuggled goods. She's fast, she's light, absolutely a joy to sail." She patted the bulkhead fondly. "Let me show you what she's got." She spun the wheel and whistled up a wind and in no time at all they were whipping through the waves.

Harry clung to the top rail of the bridge and shrieked in glee. His hair blew back from his head and he kept a hand on his glasses. He loved the feel of the wind in his face and the tang of salt laden air hitting his nostrils. "This is unbelievable!"

"Told you you'd love it! Katie laughed. Her hair was whipped about and a few drops of salt water fell on her head. Never had she look quite so appealing as she did then, with her hair all windblown and her cheeks reddened, wearing that swimsuit that revealed her well muscled legs and thighs and . . .he tore his gaze away, before he did something ungentlemanly that would result in her father hexing him to death.

He threw his arms about her and kissed her, a true kiss this time, with all the passion and fervor within him.

"Whoa! Easy there, loverling! I have to steer the boat, you know!" she giggled.

"Sorry." He made as if to leave.

She pulled him back. "You can stay, Harry. Just try not to . . .distract me like that again, okay?"

"Okay. Are we almost to the fishing spot?"

"Yes, Mr. Impatience. Here, watch me, and I'll try and teach you a little about how to sail . . ."

She began jabbering away about main masts and main sails and jibs and he tried to focus on her, but all he kept remembering was how good she had tasted and how he longed to put his arms about her and when she leaned over like that his mouth went dry with longing and he had to remind himself to keep his hands where they belonged . . .

Abruptly, she gestured, and a large anchor flew over the side. She spun the wheel sideways and _Sea Treasure_ turned, Katie carefully brought the ship about broadside and then furled a few sails. "All right, we're here. Let's do some fishing and crabbing!"

"Uh, Katie? Where do we keep the fish and crabs we catch?" asked Hermione.

"In these big coolers spelled to be freezing," Katie replied, indicating two wide coolers stacked to one side of the cabin.

She opened the hatch to the hold and climbed down. She returned a few minutes later with several bulky wire cages and a bucket of bait, which was pieces of raw chicken, gotten from another cooler. "Here we go. Let me show you how to bait the crab traps and tie them up and toss them over."

Once she had shown all of them what to do, it wasn't hard, she Summoned the fishing poles and tackle box up to the top deck and started baiting hooks with practiced ease.

Draco, finished with his crab trap, came over and took a pole and asked, "What sort of fish swim in these waters?"

"Lots of different ones. Sea bass, chubs, flounder, blue fish."

"Sounds like a fish paradise." Draco licked his lips. One of his favorite meals was fried fish. He chose a position well away from Katie and cast his line with one lazy flick of his wrist.

"Nice cast!" Katie praised.

"Thanks!" Draco said, giving her a smile.

"Umm . . .can someone show me how to do that?" asked Hermione.

"Sure." Katie said, and began giving Hermione a lesson on how to cast a fishing pole and reel it in.

Harry took a pole and cast on the opposite side, not too near the crab traps cast off the stern of the boat.

In about five minutes, Katie had a bite, and reeled in a nice two pound chub. Harry cheered and hoped he would get a bite soon.

Twenty minutes later, all of them had caught fish of varying kinds and sizes, though there were a few that got away. So far Draco had the prize for the largest fish, a four pound sea bass. Harry and Hermione pulled up the crab traps, and found four large crabs within them.

Katie demonstrated how to open the traps and make the crabs fall into the deep cooler. They would be half frozen by the time they arrived back at Misty Mount.

Though the day was warm, none of them were sunburned because Katie had cast a Repel Sunlight charm on them.

They were so engrossed in fishing and discussing new ways to eat the food that they forgot to keep an eye upon the weather. One minute the sky was clear and full of sun, and the next large storm clouds were gathering on the horizon. Katie looked up from tugging another crab trap from the water and saw the looming thunderheads and swore. "Ah . . .bloody hell!"

"What? What is it?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"Reel everything in! Quick! We have to weigh anchor and get out of here. There's a storm off the port bow!" she cried. She began pulling up the traps and sending them below.

Her friends quickly pulled in their lines and she vanished the bait from the hooks and sent them below too and then she fastened the hatch. She directed Draco to haul up the anchor, while she unfurled the sails. "Sit down, quickly! We're going to come about and see if we can outrun this!"

Hermione, Harry, and Draco obeyed, and once her passengers were safe, Katie allowed the wind to billow the sails and they began racing the storm towards the shore with everything they had.

_Come on, baby! Come on!_ Katie silently urged her clipper. She had once ridden out a storm at sea upon her father's bigger _Sea Lady_ and she had been terrified and had no wish to repeat the experience or have her friends repeat it. _Sea Treasure_ was flying before the angry clouds, but even under full sail, she knew it would be close. And she dared not tamper with the weather to try and turn the storm, lest she cause it to worsen. A novice weatherworker could do more harm than good.

Her friends were sitting below, white-faced and frightened, and the best she could do was smile encouragingly.

The sea roughened and the waves began to smack the side of the sailboat hard. Katie gritted her teeth and called, "Harry! Reach below you and find the life vests! Put them on! Just in case."

Harry scrambled to do so, handing a life vest to each, and then he made his way up to the bridge and handed her one as well. "Katie, how bad is it? Do you think we'll need these?" He indicated the orange vest.

"I don't know. But it's best to be prepared. Go below, Harry." She ordered, fighting the wheel to keep the ship on course.

Thank goodness he had the sense to listen to her, for she couldn't spare a moment to talk to him right then. The ship was demanding every ounce of her attention and all of her seamanship skills learned at her father's knee.

The wind whipped the waves to a froth and started tearing the sail. She heard an ominous ripping sound above her, and then heard Draco call, "Katie! The right front sail's torn!"

"Dammit!" she cried, and muttered a quick Repair Charm and then she furled it. She couldn't afford to lose a sail.

Of course, that slowed their progress homeward, and the storm chased them and caught them soon afterwards.

_Sea Treasure_ was tossed about upon the suddenly gigantic waves, and Katie fought the screaming wind to furl the rest of the sails before the wind ripped them to shreds. Rain began to lash the deck, cold and hard, and all of them shivered. Katie opened her mouth to tell them to go below when Hermione screamed and pointed to her right.

Katie turned and saw a huge tidal wave sweeping towards them. _Oh blessed Merlin!_ She tried to spin the wheel about to see if she could blunt the force of the gigantic wave, but the fifteen foot wave hit _Sea Treasure_ hard, picking up the slender craft and twirling it about like a child's top before smashing it down.

_Sea Treasure_ tilted and stood on end before flipping over and depositing her passengers and captain into the raging surf.

**One of my famous cliffies!**

**What will they do now and when will the Captain and Severus discover that they're in danger?**

**I hope you liked Katie's home and their trip aboard the Sea Treasure so far! This chapter took me longer than expected to write because of work and my mother becoming sick, so please excuse the delay and any typos. Thanks everyone! Oh, and please leave a review! I really like g**etting them** and read them all, even if I don't have time to respond to all of them. I hope nobody is growing bored with this story, or think it's too long. I recently had a review for Arms of a Dark Angel on P & S, where the reader complained that story was too long and dragged on and on. I would hope that's not the case here and asked the person why she continued reading if the story bored her. **

**There's lots more to come over the summer in this story and I wouldn't want anyone reading it to think it was boring, I felt that Katie, Draco, Harry, and Hermione needed to have a summer adventure together and test their mettle. Plus I enjoy stormy weather stories.**


	36. Summer Squall

**36**

**Summer Squall**

Harry splashed into the storm-tossed water and immediately wished he had that potion he had used back in the Black Lake to rescue Katie from the kelpie, the one that turned him into a merman for a few hours. The water was not very warm, it felt like it was freezing, and the waves smacked him every which way. He bobbed in the surf like a cork, and he struggled to remain near the capsized _Sea Treasure,_ finally grabbing a floating line and tying it about his waist. Then he tucked his glasses into a zippered pocket of his life vest, the crashing waves made it impossible for him to see anyhow, with or without glasses.

"Katie! Hermione! Draco! You okay?" he shouted above the whipping wind and crashing of thunder.

"Harry!" He heard Katie's voice from close by, and then he saw her, swimming through the rough waves, a line tied to her waist. "You all right? Grab a line and tie it around you, so you'll stay next to the ship!"

"Got it!" he yelled back, shivering.

"Good! Let me find Hermione and Draco," Katie called, turning about.

She found Hermione being held by Draco, her friend had hit her head on a spar when the boat flipped over and was bleeding and barely conscious. Blood was dripping down her pale face into the water, and Draco was clinging with one white knuckled hand to the bulkhead. "Draco! Are you all right?"

"I think so!" he called back, coughing as water went into his nose as a wave broke over him. "But 'Mione needs help! She hit her head pretty bad and I can't reach my wand without letting her go."

"Hang on! I'm coming!"

Katie kicked hard through the water. Soon she reached Draco and Hermione. She had her wand in a holder on her wrist. She grasped it and pointed it at Hermione's bleeding forehead. "_Episkey!"_

The cut healed and sealed itself in two seconds.

"Wicked spell!" Draco praised. "But why isn't she waking up?"

"Don't know. My spell heals wounds and broken bones, but maybe not head trauma. Let me find you a line so you can tie yourselves to the ship."

"How about calling for help?"

"I'll shoot up a flare, but who knows if anyone will see. I don't know if the mirror is still there. I'll have to take a look." She didn't need to tell him that it wasn't looking good.

The storm was raging and they had little hope of being seen despite the flares she would shoot off. Plus there was blood in the water, and that was a surefire way of drawing sharks. The best she could do was to try and fasten everyone to _The Sea Treasure_ and hope that her father or another Sea Wizard checked the area for capsized crafts.

She cast a Bubble Head charm and dove beneath the surface, swimming under the _Sea Treasure_. She carefully made her way to where the small shelf was that she stored the mirror on and found it empty. _Damn! Dad's gonna have my arse, that was an expensive piece of equipment! Maybe I can Summon it?_

She whispered softly, _"Accio magic mirror!"_

The sea roiled and churned beneath her. But nothing appeared, which meant the object she wished was not in range of her summoning. The water was cold and the wind was whipping the waves into a froth and she knew that unless she did something soon, she would start to develop hypothermia. And so would her friends. She recalled her father's advice, _"Katie, if you're ever in a storm at sea and you fall into the ocean, you must do four things quickly, grab a rope and tie yourself to the ship, if the ship is out of commission, shoot a flare from your wand, cast a warming spell upon yourself and the water, and lastly, cast a Bubble Head charm, and if you're able, call a dolphin to carry word back."_

She dove back under the boat and swam back to where her friends were tethered. Harry bobbed in the wave wash, some three feet from the boat. "Harry! Do you know how to cast a Flare Charm?"

He nodded. He groped for his wand, which was in its holder beneath his life vest around his waist. "Got it!"

"Hurry and cast it!" she yelled, then she chanted the spell. A glittering red ball shot out of the tip of her wand and exploded overhead.

Harry cast as well, but he wondered how anyone would see it through the driving rain and lightning. His teeth were now chattering. He managed to swim closer to the ship. He saw Draco holding Hermione. He saw his brother looking very concerned. "Draco, what happened to Hermione?"

"She's hurt! She hit her head." His brother shouted.

Harry could barely hear him. He coughed and choked as the waves broke over him.

He could barely see Draco and Hermione now.

Katie swam up beside him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Harry, I'm going to cast a Warming Charm on you, and also the water, so we don't freeze to death."

Soon he felt gloriously warm and the water he floated in felt like bathwater. "Thanks, Katie! Now what?"

"Have to . . .call a . . .dolphin . . ."

"A what?"

"A dolphin!" She mimicked the up and down motion of the famous mammal.

"Oh!" He gave her a puzzled glance. "How?"

"Who cares?" Draco put in. "Hurry up and do what you have to, Bell! Hermione could be dying!" He cradled his girlfriend as close as the vest would allow, pressing her into his shoulder. _It's okay, Mione. I'm here. It's okay. Please don't die on me. Don't die._

"I'm _trying_, Malfoy!" Katie snapped back. "_You_ ever try and concentrate during a bloody summer squall?" She took several deep breaths and then submerged herself beneath the waves once more. In order for the dolphin to hear he call, she had to send it underwater, where sound traveled quicker than above through the air.

Though the Bubble Head charm allowed her to breathe underwater, it did not illuminate the darkness, and she felt as if she were blind and deaf. She was scared to pieces that they would all drown here, in the unforgiving sea, and no one would know until weeks later. _The sea never gives up her dead._ That morbid line from a sailor's sea chanty made her shiver worse than ever, despite the Warming Charm. _Why didn't I keep an eye on the sky? Dad always taught me to look at the clouds for warning when the weather would change. But I was too busy fishing and showing off my boat. And now look at the holy mess we're in. _She would have cried for the loss of her beautiful clipper, but she was too busy trying to save her friends and herself from the wild ocean to shed tears over her boat just yet.

_Calm down, Bell, and concentrate! You know how to call up a dolphin, Dad made you practice till you were waterlogged all last summer. _She had thrice called a dolphin to her while with her Sea Wizard father, but that had been in calm waters, not a storm.

_Doesn't matter. Dad said they'll hear the call if it's loud and true, no matter what the weather's like topside. It's all the same down in the depths._ She spoke to herself sternly. _You're a Bell, you have seawater in your veins, now concentrate and call!_

She forced her breathing to slow, to relax, and then she called upon the magic she had inherited from her seagoing ancestors, who had been masters of wind and wave and had an affinity for things that swam and crawled in the sea. Though she had not inherited the full-blown talent of a Sea Witch, she had enough to use to summon a dolphin.

Slowly, she sent out a slow pulse of magic, which echoed like a sonar through the water. _Help! Help! This is Katie Bell, captain of Sea Treasure! Request emergency aid! Ship capsized in storm, bearings unknown! Repeat! Request emergency aid!_ She sent that over and over, making the water echo with her plea, loud, clear, and true.

Then she waited for five minutes.

Up above, Harry stared down at the spot where he'd last seen Katie. She had not come up in over five minutes and he felt his heart start to seize. "Katie!" he screamed. "Katie! Where are you?" _She couldn't have drowned. She had a charm on her. Oh, Lady Bright, I wish Duncan were here. But he's with Luna, I'll bet, and she lives . . .hell, I don't even know where she lives . . ._"Katie!" he shouted again, while lightning crackled and lit up the sky. Had anyone at all seen the flares? And even if they did, would they known where to find them. He wished they had that green dye to throw into the water like they showed on all those rescue programs on the telly. The dye stained the water blue or something and was easy to spot from the air.

_How long does it take to call a bloody dolphin?_ The waiting was driving him crazy.

He drew in a breath to shout again, when Katie surged to the surface. "I did it!"

"Is it coming?" Draco wanted to know.

"Yes. How's Mione doing?"

"The same." Draco replied, trying to avoid getting smacked into the side of the ship.

"How long will the dolphin take to get here?" asked Harry, he swam close to Katie and wrapped an arm about her.

"Don't know. Depends on how far away it was when it heard me," Katie said. "Hopefully it'll arrive in ten minutes or so." She hugged him close.

It seemed like an eternity before Katie felt something nudge her foot. She nearly jumped out of her skin, but then a smiling face and a rounded dorsal fin broke the surface, and the dolphin's happy chatter filled the air. It began to speak to Katie in weird whistles, squeaks, and groans.

"What's it saying?" Harry asked, thinking it was too bad Hermione was knocked out, she would have loved to see a dolphin and hear it too.

"I'm not sure. I don't speak dolphin that well, I'm not a full Sea Wizard. But it'll understand me." She began to speak rapidly to the dolphin. "Hello, Waverunner!" she greeted, for one of the things she had understood was the dolphin's name. "I'm Katie Bell of the clipper _Sea Treasure_ and I need you to relay a message to the Sea Wizard Edward Bell, onshore at Misty Mount. Tell him we're in trouble and need emergency assistance! It's a Code Red! Understand?"

The dolphin bobbed its head and whistled sharply. Then it burbled a short farewell and it leaped up and dived beneath the waves again.

"Is that dolphin going to get help?" asked Draco, half-floating in the water.

"Yes."

"I hope it finds someone right away." Draco said. "Before we drown."

"We're not going to drown, Malfoy," Katie said sternly. "Think positive, okay?"

"What's positive about this damn situation?"

"You're still breathing and so's Hermione," Katie replied promptly. "Keep doing it."

Draco would have answered her back with a smart remark, but he found his rapier tongue had deserted him in the face of such terror. Funny, but he had always loved the sea and being near water, and now all he wanted to do was get back home. But another part of him was very annoyed that their fine catch had just gone down into the drink. All those hours—and delicious fish—wasted! Bloody damn summer squall!

Just then, a huge CRACK! split the air.

Draco almost came right out of his shorts. _I'm sorry! God, I'm sorry! You can have the fish, but don't kill us!_ He didn't know who he was babbling to—God, the storm, the ocean—but he prayed it heard him. Because he really didn't want to die at fifteen. He wondered where his father was, where the Captain was, and why no one had noticed that they were late getting back. Didn't they know they were in trouble?

Severus had just sat down upon a wicker lounger to read a novel he had started back in May and had never finished, thinking how pleasant it was to just be able to relax. He had no tests to grade, essays to endure, or homework to decipher with students' abysmal handwriting. For once, he could read for pleasure, and he intended to take full advantage of that fact while the children were out sailing.

Until a cloud scudded across the sun and he looked up to see a bank of black clouds looming offshore. _Looks like a nasty storm is arriving,_ he thought, and rose to go inside the house. Then he recalled that the children were out in a sailboat and his overprotective instincts went into overload. He checked his watch. Two hours and they still weren't back yet, and a storm was brewing on the horizon.

Fear swarmed up the back of his throat and crouched there, taunting him like a starving black beast.

He walked into the house and called, "Edward? Might I ask when you heard from the children last?"

Edward Bell looked up from the block of balsa wood he was carving into a seahorse, flicking the shavings from his lap. "A few hours ago. Katie contacted me on her mirror to tell me they were going fishing. What's wrong?"

"There's a storm brewing and they should be back by now."

Edward set down his unfinished project and tools and Summoned his mirror wandlessly. "Katie? Come in, Katie, it's Dad. Are you aware there's a storm brewing? Katherine Elise, answer me!"

Nothing. The mirror remained unresponsive.

Edward swore a few blistering oaths and Marissa frowned severely at him.

"Really, Edward! You're not on your ship, you know!"

"I'm sure Severus would be swearing too if he couldn't contact his daughter when there's a squall brewing." He shook the mirror and tried again to contact his daughter. Still nothing. "Something's wrong. She would never ignore a hail from me."

Now Marissa looked alarmed. "Ed, maybe you'd better take _Sea Lady_ out and go look for them."

"My thoughts exactly, love."

Severus gazed out the window. "I'm coming with you. Just in case."

Edward looked at the other wizard and saw from his obdurate expression and clenched jaw that nothing short of death would keep Severus Snape on dry land. "Very well. Hope you have a strong stomach, Snape, because we'll be sailing right into the teeth of a fierce little squall." He began pulling on his oilskin coat and boots.

Severus gestured and his clothes Transfigured themselves into rain gear. "I've not done much sailing, but I've never gotten seasick, Bell. And I'm not about to start now." He looked again at the darkening sky and heard thunder boom out in the distance. "Can't you use your Sea Wizard power to calm the storm?"

"Yes, but not without expending tremendous magical effort. Tampering with the weather is not as easy as you think, and we who roam the sea try and do so very little, for it requires a delicate balance. Changing the weather without regard for anyone but yourself could result in disaster. Shift a storm off its natural course and you could cause a draught in a different part of the world, or a hurricane, or typhoon. You have to study the weather patterns carefully to avoid all that, and it takes time we can't afford. Trust me, Snape. I can sail through it."

Having no choice but to trust the expert, Severus merely nodded. Then he felt his Amulet of Inheritance start to burn, signifying that members of his family were in danger. He clasped the amulet and it warmed to almost searing at his touch. He got a picture of Harry and Draco bobbing in a storm-tossed sea. "Bloody hell, Edward! They're in the ocean! Possibly drowning!"

"How do you know that? Do you have the Sight?"

"No. I have an amulet that's attuned to my son Harry." Severus panted, feeling his chest squeeze painfully. "Sometimes it warns me if they're in mortal danger, like now. Hurry!"

"Can it guide you to them?" asked the Captain.

"No."

The two Apparated down to the dock where _Sea Lady _was tied. In two minutes, Edward had cast off and they were underway. But they had barely made it out of lagoon when a dolphin leaped in front of the ship, chattering loudly.

To Severus' everlasting shock and anger, the Captain slowed the boat and leaned over the side. "What the blazes are you _doing_, Edward! We don't have time to chitchat with a bloody dolphin!"

The Sea Wizard ignored him, continuing to commune with the grinning mammal.

Severus considered trying to scare the smirking nuisance away with a loud noise, but then the Captain straightened and said, "That dolphin was sent by Katie! Her sailboat's capsized, but they're all okay, and they're requesting assistance from anyone available. Waverunner here has offered to guide us to them."

"The _dolphin_?"

"Dolphins are extremely intelligent. He can find his way back to them without a problem."

"How?"

"Echo location and a very good memory." He waved to the dolphin, who turned and leaped forward. "Sit down, Severus. I'm going to put the wind in her sails and let her out."

Hands glowing, Edward Summoned the wind and let it fill the _Sea Lady's_ sails. The sleek craft leaped ahead and kept right on the dolphin's tail.

Severus gripped the rail and prayed they would be in time.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

Harry's throat burned and he coughed up salt water for the hundredth or maybe thousandth time. He couldn't seem to avoid getting water up his nose or in his mouth, which felt like cotton. The warmth of the water couldn't obliviate the exhaustion sweeping through him, as he fought to stay awake, because he had a feeling that sleeping was very bad right then. He had wrapped a small line about his wrist, tying him to Katie, who was floating next to him. His hand found hers and they clung together like a pair of barnacles.

The rhythmic slap-slap of the waves against the boat lulled them all into a stupor, until Hermione woke suddenly. She gasped as she looked about, and the first thing her eyes saw was Draco. The second thing was a large dorsal fin circling them.

She bit back a scream. _This cannot be happening. I'm having a bad dream. There cannot be a shark circling us in the middle of a storm. That's just plain nonsense._

"Draco?" she whispered. "What's that?" she pointed to the rapidly circling fin.

Draco looked and went pale as snow. "It's . . .bloody flaming _shit_! Katie, look over there and tell me if you see a shark circling?"

Katie blinked and peered off to the right. There was a fin out there, of the wrong shape entirely to be a dolphin. She froze. "Nobody move. Stay very very still."

"What is it? A real shark?" Hermione quavered.

"Yes. He was probably attracted by the blood in the water."

"What blood in the water?" Hermione whimpered.

"You hit your head and were bleeding," Draco elaborated.

"Oh God! What do we do?" Hermione cried. She did not wish to end up on a fish lunch menu.

"Stay still and wait." Katie replied. "Don't kick your feet, don't start crying and screaming, a shark is attracted to movement and he can smell fear. So you have to be calm." She reached out and grabbed Hermione's hand. "Understand?"

Hermione nodded.

The razor-sharp fin with its vertical tip continued to circle ever closer, following the blood trail in the water effortlessly.

Harry felt as if he had fallen into the set of JAWS. Only this time it wasn't a mechanical shark.

The fin circled and circled, while the four friends struggled to remain still and calm and not panic, though any minute Harry expected to feel razor sharp teeth chomping down on his leg.

**Who thinks the shark will attack them? How would you react in this situation?**

**Will Sev and Ed get there in time? Or should Katie be the one to save them all from being a shark snack pack?**

**Who likes JAWS, or any of its sequels?**


	37. Mariner's Surprise

**37**

**Mariner's Surprise**

Waverunner swam at nearly the top of his speed range, somewhere between thirty to thirty-five miles per hour (48-54 k), always staying just within sight of Captain Ed and the _Sea Lady_. With the wind surging in her sails, the ship managed to keep abreast of the worst of the storm and the Captain used his sea magic to smooth out some of the rougher waves so that they didn't bounce quite so hard and get tossed around.

Severus was already anxious and fearful for his children, not to mention the fact that he also didn't enjoy sea travel. His anxiety made his stomach churn worse than normal and add to that fact that the sea was not calm had him feeling nauseous within fifteen minutes of leaving the protected cove by Misty Mount. But he had long practice in controlling nausea while attending Death Eater meetings, where prisoners and Muggles were routinely tortured and occasionally raped before his eyes, and he put that into play now, using his powerful will to overcome the sick feeling in his gut. He grasped his medallion and whispered a brief prayer that both his sons be safe and tried to remain calm. He wished the ship could fly, wished as well that he had never let four teenagers go out alone without adult supervision. What the hell had he been _thinking_?

His hands gripped the sides of the single seat below the bridge platform and he concentrated upon breathing slowly.

"You all right there, Severus?" called Ed from his place at the wheel.

"Fine. How much longer?"

"Let me find out." The Captain said, then he made several high pitched clicks and whistles and grating noises that Severus swore could not have come from a human throat.

The dolphin replied back with a sharp squeak and whistle.

"About fifteen more minutes, if we keep to the current course," Edward yelled.

"Thank God," muttered the Potions Master.

The ship sped on, following in the wake of the merry dolphin.

HPSSHPSSHP

Draco kept his eyes glued to the circling fin about twelve feet from them, wondering what the damn predator was waiting for. Surely it could tell they were no threat and decide which one it wanted to snack on first? _Are you in a hurry to die?_ The cynical part of his brain asked. He clutched Hermione tighter and whispered, "Don't worry. If it tries to come for us, I'll kick the bastard right in the nose."

Hermione nodded, her eyes also riveted to the circling fish. For one moment, she wished she had remained unconscious. "Katie?" she called softly, her voice barely carrying, though the wind had died down to almost a whisper by then. "Can't you . . .drive it off with a spell?"

Her friend didn't reply for a moment, then she answered, "Right now it seems to be checking us out, and if I make any sudden moves to get my wand, it might decide it's hungry after all and attack. If we all remain quiet and still, it might decide to leave. Sharks usually don't attack people, especially four of them together."

"But people have been _eaten_ by sharks before!" Harry argued.

"When was the last time that happened?" his girlfriend asked. "Ages ago, and never in my lifetime, or even my father's. Sharks are like wolves, they have a horrible reputation as man eaters, when the truth is, most sharks only attack people because they think they're seals or injured fish. That's why I told you to remain still and not thrash about, because that's what a dying fish does."

She eyed the shark worriedly. It had been circling them for at least ten minutes now and it was odd that it hadn't come closer to investigate by now. A little warning voice in her mind was telling her that this shark was probably not hungry or it was non-aggressive. She wondered if she should dare ducking beneath the waves and using her Sonar spell, which she could cast without a wand due to her sea witch blood. The spell would tell her how big the shark was and even what kind it was, since different sharks were shaped differently.

"I don't like the way it keeps going around and around us," Harry said nervously. "Why is it doing that?" he fought to remain perfectly still, all his nerves were on edge, and adrenaline began pumping through him, triggering the "fight or flight" reflex.

"Sharks have to swim constantly or they'll die," Katie informed him.

Harry wished this one would just commit suicide. The JAWS theme song was playing in his head over and over.

"Don't panic," Katie said suddenly. "I'm going to go below for a minute and check the shark out."

"How? You're crazy!" Harry nearly screamed. Had she lost her bloody _mind_?

"No. I'm a sea wizard's daughter. Trust me."

With that, she vanished beneath the waves.

Harry fought to keep from shouting at her to come back and diving after her.

"Phoenix, don't move," Draco called.

Harry checked the brief impulse. _Think before you act._ Severus' lesson during school rang in his head, and he remained still and quiet, despite the terror surging through his veins. Seconds felt like hours and he bit his lip, wishing he could put on his glasses so the world wasn't just a blur of colors and shapes. But he dared not trust the fickle sea.

Three minutes later, Katie surfaced smoothly. "It's okay," she cried. "That's a nurse shark out there, although it's the biggest one I've seen, about 15 feet, and they don't usually come this far north, they like tropical waters. Strange."

"Great! We've got a lost tropical shark here looking for a quick bite," Draco growled.

Katie shook her head. "No. Nurse sharks hardly ever attack humans, they like squid best, and people have been known to swim among them and even pet them without anything happening. Nurse sharks are very docile, like big boarhounds."

Draco gave her a skeptical look. "You telling me that we've got the fish version of Fang out there?"

"Yes."

"Just how do you know that?"

"I used a Sonar spell, something I can cast wandlessly because I'm a third generation child of sea wizards and witches. Some of the sea magic is passed down through the blood, you see, and it's almost like an innate ability, like having quick reflexes."

"Next thing you're going to tell me is that you can grow gills and breathe underwater," Draco said.

"Not me, I don't have the full gift, but my parents can become marine creatures for short periods. Mum's a beluga whale and Dad's a marlin. But the shift only lasts two or three hours. And it's very draining on your magical reserves, which is why most sea wizards don't use it very much."

"Then we don't have to worry about the nurse shark eating us?" Hermione asked, her eyes still fixing upon the fin.

Katie shook her head. The storm had almost passed by now, and the sky began to quit raining and the sun to come out from beneath the cloud cover. The sea had also calmed a little and the splash of the waves against the side of the capsized _Sea Treasure_ was almost soothing.

As if the sudden cessation of bad weather was a signal, the nurse shark suddenly broke out of its circling pattern and swam a bit closer. The four teens all froze, their breath rasping in their throats. Harry, who couldn't make out much because of his poor eyesight, asked nervously, "What is it? What's happening?"

Draco hissed, "The damn shark . . .it's coming closer . . ."

"Bloody hell!" muttered his brother, shivering.

Then the shark dissolved into a million silver sparkles, making them close their eyes against the sudden flare of light.

When they opened their eyes again, they saw a tall angular boy of about sixteen swimming where the shark had been, his blond hair plastered against his head. He wore aqua trunks and his body was well-muscled and sleek. He bore a tattoo upon his right bicep of a curled wave and five stars. In his ear was a large polished green agate with a pearl suspended from it.

He had eyes the color of seaweed and he nodded and gave them a roguish smile before introducing himself. "Hello. Didn't mean to scare you, but my mistress sent me to keep an eye on you all till our ship could come in range. Mariner Will Beauregard at your service."

He gave them all credible bow, though Draco didn't know how he managed it without looking like a fool while treading water. His voice held the soft drawl of the Southern United States.

"You're a wizard!" exclaimed the last Malfoy, glaring at the newcomer. "Why didn't you change back then, instead of letting us all think we were in danger from a bloody shark? You like making fools of us?"

The sea wizard shook his head. "Not at all, but I can't force a change. Once I become my sea form, I can't shift back until two hours pass. That's the spell's duration."

"Then you're not like an Animagus?" Harry asked.

"No. Animagi can change at will."

Katie swam forward. "Greetings, Mariner Beauregard. Katherine Elise Bell, daughter of Captain Edward Bell, Sea Wizard. And these are my friends, Harry Snape, Draco Malfoy, and Hermione Granger." She indicated each one in turn.

Will grinned. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Bell. So you're the cap's youngest, are you? The one who plays Chaser on the Quidditch team at school, right?"

"Yes," she clasped his hand in hers. "Do you know my sister then?"

He nodded. "She's my Sea Mage, I'm her apprentice. We saw your flares about an hour ago and we were about two hours from your position, so Mistress Max sent me on ahead to do some surveying in my sea form, assess the situation, like. It's standard procedure with a distress call."

"How come?" asked Draco.

"To make sure it's a legit distress beacon and not a lure put out by pirates or wreckers," answered the Mariner. "We've lost ships and sailors before to that sort of thing, so it's a precaution."

"You mean, there're still pirates around?" Hermione exclaimed.

"Still? Girl, they never left. They've always been around and probably always will be. Damn sea wolves!" Will scowled, using the nautical term for a pirate. "Are you all right? I smelled blood in the water when I swam up."

"We're okay now." Katie told him. "Hermione was hurt, but I healed her." She knew from his title, Mariner, that he was in his third year of apprenticeship, most Sea Wizards started an apprenticeship at age thirteen, learning from a Sea Mage or Wizard, which was another name for a Sea Witch. The Sea Wizards were a law unto themselves, and those with the gift often did not attend Hogwarts, preferring to serve their magical apprenticeship near the water with a full master or mistress. Maxine had served under the Captain, and Amber with her mother.

"Good. Then I won't have to worry about any other predators coming to investigate." Will said. "What happened? You get swamped by a wave?"

Katie nodded, her face darkening in sorrow. "I didn't see the storm come up till it was almost upon us, and I'm not Sea Mage enough to calm the water, and a wave slammed us and flipped _Sea Treasure_. There was nothing I could do but make sure we all tied ourselves to the boat and then I called a dolphin. I sent him back to my father for help."

"Quick thinking." The Mariner said approvingly. "You kept your head. It could have been much worse, considering that was quite a squall we had."

"Aren't you cold?" Hermione asked, her teeth chattering slightly, even though the water was still warmed by Katie's spell.

Will shook his head. "Nope. Us Sea Wizards have a sort of immunity to cold water, most times. Helps us when we have to rescue passengers on shipwrecks." He touched his earring then said, as if to himself, "Aye, Captain, mark in five minutes." Then he looked back at the others. "_Amphitrite's Pearl_ will be here in about five minutes, and we can get you all out of the water and into some dry clothes and give you some warm seaweed broth to drink."

"Seaweed broth?" Harry wrinkled his nose. "Yuck!"

"It doesn't taste half as bad as it sounds, kid," laughed the Mariner. "Keeps the blood warm and gives you some vitamins and minerals that ward off sickness."

"It's sort of like a salty vegetable broth," Katie said. "It's better than some of the potions you've had to drink."

"What's that tattoo on your arm?" asked Draco curiously.

"This?" Will swam closer, so Draco could get a better look. "It's my Guild tattoo. Every apprentice wizard or witch gets one after they've served a year apprenticeship. It signifies that you're a member of the Oceanic Guild, which is the most powerful Guild still in operation today, we're international, and once you're a full Sea Wizard, you pay dues to it and they give you protection and aid if you need it."

"Are they part of the Ministry? I've never heard of that branch before," Draco queried, his brow furrowing.

"No. The Guild operates independently of the Ministry. Always has." Will replied. "Politics and Sea Wizards don't mix."

"You're not answerable to the Minister?" Hermione looked astonished.

"That pompous ass?" snorted Will. "Not on your life, nor the Wizengamut neither. We Sea Wizards are answerable to the Grand Admiral Magnus Horatio Nelson. He's the Head of the Guild as well as the highest ranking Sea Wizard in the world. He can take apart a tempest with a whistle. We're answerable to the Guild alone, and we police our own. Our goal is to make the sea safe for everyone and to fight pirates wherever we find them."

"These pirates, are they Sea Wizards too?" asked Harry.

"Some of 'em were. But they broke their Guild oaths and went dark. Now they're outlaws and food for the sharks when we catch 'em," the Mariner answered, a fierce look coming over his friendly features.

Before they could ask any more questions, they saw a large ship coming through the water. It was much bigger than Katie's clipper, it looked almost like a warship, a three masted, three tiered frigate flying the wave and star banner of the Oceanic Guild and the Union Jack. "There's _the Pearl_, ladies and gents!" announced Will, and he waved at those on board as they glided over the waves.

Harry had to admit that he had never been so grateful to see anything as that proud ship in his life, except maybe his father and Sarai that time in the Deepwood when he had been trying to keep Draco alive during the Unseelie ambush.

"Ahoy, Mariner Beauregard!" called a deep bass voice. "Are all passengers accounted for?"

"Aye, First Mate! All present and accounted for." Will hailed the ship.

"Well done, Mariner. Stand by to receive lifeboat," called the first officer.

A boat was lowered over the side and it magically drew alongside them and Will assisted the weary youngsters into the boat, then he climbed in himself and the boat magically propelled itself back to _Amphitrite's Pearl_.

HPSSHPSSHP

Katie was greeted by her sister, Maxine, or Max, as she preferred to be called, as soon as she set foot on _the Pearl's_ deck. "Katie, what scrape have you gotten yourself into now?" she scolded good-naturedly before picking her little sister up in a bear hug.

Maxine Bell was a tall willowy woman in her early twenties, her long hair was a light sunstreaked brunette that fell in a braid down her back. Like her apprentice, she also bore a Guild tattoo and an agate earring. Her skin was a warm café au lait color from exposure to the sun and wind, her eyes a merry cerulean. She was not a raving beauty, but she was attractive. She was wearing loose fitting cotton trousers tucked into knee-high boots, a sailor's blouse and a short billowy robe that came to her knees tied with a silver sash. Upon the sash were five knots, indicating she was a full Sea Mage, tested and sworn to the Guild. All her garments were various shades of blue, from aquamarine to midnight blue. She had a large pearl ring on her third finger that served as a focus for weather conjuring.

"It wasn't my fault, Max!" Katie said, swiping tears of relief from her eyes. "The storm came out of nowhere and _Treasure_ couldn't outrun it! Dad's gonna kick my arse from here to the Tortugas."

"Nah, kid. Captain knows how sudden a squall can blow up here." Max reassured her. "Sit down here, you and your mates, and let me get you some dry things and some broth. You all look like drowned puppies." She waved her wand and their soaking wet clothing was replaced by fluffy thick terry robes and cotton trousers and shirts similar to her own. "Will! Get them some broth!"

"Yes, ma'am!" her apprentice snapped to attention, managing to look presentable even in nothing but swim trunks. He made a gesture, and four steaming mugs of seaweed broth appeared before them, along with a tray of honey drizzled shortbreads.

"Any of you need to see the ship's surgeon?" asked Max.

All of them shook their heads no, even Hermione.

"Max, what about my clipper?" Katie asked, indicating the poor sailboat.

"Relax, I'll have her seaworthy in fifteen minutes. Has anyone contacted Captain Bell?"

"I did. I called a dolphin," Katie told her.

"Good. Then he'll be here shortly." Max rolled up her sleeves. "Meantime, before Old Huff n' Puff gets here and starts bellowing, let me see to your clipper." She winked at her sister.

"Old Huff n'Puff?" queried Harry.

Katie giggled. "That's our private nickname for Dad, because he huffs and puffs like a killer storm but never really hurts you."

The Sea Mage moved over to the rail and stretched out her arms. She chanted a phrase in Latin three times, tracing a strange pattern in the air with her wand.

Her arms began to glow and then suddenly the glow surrounded the capsized sailboat and drew it into the air.

As the young wizards watched in silent amazement, all except Katie, who had seen such magic before, the _Sea Treasure_ righted itself and was set down gently atop the waves.

Max pursed her lips and puffed, and a soft warm breeze swirled about the small craft, drying it. The sails hung limp and torn, but she pointed her wand and said, "Mend," in Latin, and they repaired themselves.

Draco and Harry whistled in admiration. "Wow, she's really something!"

Will joined them, sitting upon a bench off to the side, he was now wearing a pair of blue trousers and a darker blue robe, tied with a black sash with three knots in it. He began to sip his own mug of broth, savoring the salty taste. "That's Mistress Max, she's one of the best Sea Mages there is!" Admiration and pride for his teacher shone in his eyes.

"She's a Bell, it's in her blood," Katie said proudly, saluting her sister with her mug.

Harry cautiously tasted his broth, finding it was salty and rather pleasant tasting, though an odd dark green color. But the first swallow warmed him considerably and by the third he was warm all the way down to his toes. He had shoved on his glasses just before Max had performed her charm on his clothes, and now could see everything clearly. Their clothes were spread out neatly upon a set of trunks, drying in the brisk wind.

The four castaways sipped their broth and nibbled upon the shortbread for about ten minutes before a dolphin was seen cutting through the waves. It gave a brief whistle and a clicking noise.

"Ahoy, Waverunner!" Will jumped to his feet and greeted the dolphin with a series of squeaks and clicks in its own speech.

"Do all Sea Wizards speak fish?" asked Hermione.

"Pretty much. It's one of the first talents that comes out if you've got the gift," Katie said. "Look! Here comes _Sea Lady_, with my dad at the wheel."

"Is ours with him?" Harry asked, standing up, his half full mug clutched in his hand.

"Yes, look!" Katie pointed to a tall man in black trousers and a blue chambray shirt, his hair blowing all over his face, standing at the bow of the ship.

Captain Bell's ship drew alongside _Amphitrite's Pearl_, and Edward dropped anchor and hailed the other ship. "Ahoy, Captain Turner! This is Captain Bell of _Sea Lady_, you've picked up some castaways of mine. Permission to come aboard?"

Captain Turner, a red bearded man in his fifties, bellowed back, "Permission granted, Captain! Mr. Stevens, lower the plank and make her fast!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" the first mate called out orders to a few more sailors, who weighed anchor and extended a plank from their ship to the _Sea Lady_.

Edward and Severus crossed to the frigate, and upon seeing their children, rushed over to inspect them.

Harry quickly set down his mug as Severus approached. "Harry! Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Dad," were all the words he managed to get out before Severus took him by the shoulders, looked him up and down, and then crushed him to his chest.

"You're sure you're all right?" his father asked after releasing him. "I saw you in the ocean, in the middle of that damn storm . . .!"

"The boat capsized, but Katie saved us all," Harry said.

Severus released him and went to Draco, giving his blond Slytherin son the same treatment he had Harry. "Are you all right, Dragon? You look a little pale, and why is there blood on your cheek?"

"Ah, that's not mine, Dad. It's Hermione's. She hit her head when the boat flipped over and I grabbed her and she was bleeding from a cut on her forehead. But Katie healed her before too much blood went into the water."

"Thank Merlin! I nearly went into cardiac arrest when the medallion warned me the two of you were in danger." He took a handkerchief from his pocket and scrubbed Draco's cheek.

The other winced. "Not so hard, Dad." He tried to draw away, for Severus was overzealous in his ministrations. "I'm fine, Harry's fine, Hermione's fine, and so's Katie. The only thing that's not fine is our catch of crabs and fish. I think they got washed away when the boat flipped over. And we had a great catch too!" He made a mournful face.

"Who cares about the bloody fish as long as you're safe?" muttered Severus, running his hands over Draco's hair.

Then he turned to Hermione, who had watched the family reunion with something very close to amusement. "Miss Granger, are you well? Is your head hurting? I can give you a potion . . ."

"Don't worry about me, sir. My head feels fine." She set down her mug and hugged him abruptly.

He hugged her back, patting her gently. "There now, you're safe and sound, no need to cry."

"It's just. . .I thought we were going to drown and then a shark came, only it wasn't a real shark, it was Will . . ." Hermione sniffled into his shirt.

"Excuse me? Who is Will and what do you mean a shark came?" Severus sputtered. "Sit down and explain yourself."

He gently pushed her back down on the bench and sat inbetween her and his sons. He listened while Hermione and his sons told him what had happened, the crushing weight in his chest starting to lift now that he was reunited with his family once more.

A few feet away, Edward was simultaneously hugging and scolding his daughter, growling in one breath, "Katherine, how many times have I told you t'keep a weather eye out for thunderheads?" and then in the next, "Be you hurt, lass? You're shivering."

Katie buried her face in his thick cable knit jumper. "I'm not hurt, Dad. But my poor _Treasure_ is going to need a refit and I lost my Mirror of Communication in the sea and I'm sorry I was such an idiot and didn't pay attention and made you worry . . ." In spite of herself, tears began to leak out of her eyes and she started to sob, more from reaction and fear of her father's disappointment than anything.

Edward picked up his lanky daughter and sat down upon a barrel with her, holding her and murmuring, "Hush, Katie girl. I nearly died when Severus told me what he had seen . . .I thought I'd not be in time . . .thank goodness you remembered what I taught you . . .There now, I'm not angry, you silly goose! I can make another mirror and we'll fix _Treasure_, I'm just glad to have you safe and not . . ." he trailed off and made a sign to ward off ill luck. No one knew better than he how fickle a mistress the sea was.

"Then I'm not in trouble?" Katie asked, wiping her nose upon her sleeve.

Edward snorted. "'Twas bad luck, girl. Could have happened to anyone, even me. And I'd say the sea has punished you more soundly than ever I could. But you kept your head and you didn't panic like a silly landlubber, you did yourself and me proud, little mariner. Now, let's thank Captain Turner and his brave crew for hauling you outta the drink, and let me say hello to your sister and young Will, and thank them too. Then we can be off home, where I'm sure your mother has worn a hole in the floor pacing."

Both parents showered the Captain, Max, and Will with thanks, and Edward invited Captain Turner and his officers to his house for a clam bake as well Maxine and Will. They accepted, saying they would take up the invitation next time they made port.

Finally, they all boarded _Sea Lady_, tied up Katie's clipper to the stern and were heading back to Misty Mount. Katie and Draco went back on board _Sea Treasure_ to see if any of the catch had survived, and found to their delight that the hold hatch had not unlocked. The fish and crabs were still safely stowed in their seawater compartments, and as a reward, Katie gave a bucket of fish to Waverunner for his help.

The dolphin gulped them down and whistled his thanks before leaping up in the air and then vanishing again into the waves. _Farewell, little wizards! Smooth sailings!_

"Well?" Harry asked as Draco climbed back onto the Captain's ship. "Was there any fish left?"

"The whole catch and the crabs too," Draco said happily. "We'll have a feast tonight, Phoenix. Crab legs and fried fish." He smacked his lips in anticipation.

"But no shark," Hermione commented, and for some reason that comment made them all laugh hysterically.

Severus looked over at them, relieved that they all seemed to be getting over their traumatic experience. He thanked Merlin that the Sea Wizards were so efficient and prompt in a crisis, the Aurors could take a few lessons from them. He rested his elbow on the rail and looked out over the water, finding the motion of the ship easier to bear if he was standing and focusing his eyes on the horizon, which was now clear and tinged with rose and gold and violet as the sun began to set. What a weekend this had turned out to be! Then again, he should have expected the unexpected, because trouble seemed to find his sons wherever they were. He caressed his medallion and thought how glad he would be when they were finally home at Prince Manor, for though he liked the Bells, he would never warm to the sea, his heart was forever tied to the land of his ancestors.

He heaved a silent sigh when they pulled up at the dock and the kids hopped out and fetched the chests of seafood and carried them up to the house, while Katie and Edward tied up their crafts.

"Do you need any help, Edward?" he asked for politeness' sake, for he knew next to nothing about ships.

"No, Severus. Katie and I can manage fine. You go on up to the house, we'll be along in a few."

Severus climbed carefully down the side and onto the dock. Then, because he didn't feel like walking up the twisty path to the house, he Apparated.

That night, they all feasted upon the fresh fish and crab legs, eating the fish with a special blend of cocktail and tartar sauce and the crab with drawn butter, as well as seasoned potatoes and warm yeast rolls. Over dinner, the kids related their experience over to Marissa, and if some parts of the tale grew a little in the telling, no one minded.

**Hope you all liked the surprise!**

**I could probably do a whole side story about the Sea Wizards, now that I think about it. But that'll have to wait till this is finished. Would you be interested?**

**Next: The Snapes return home and Harry receives some lessons on manipulating time via the time clock and writes to Petunia and Ron. Plus Draco receives a letter from the Malfoy solicitor.**


	38. Turn Back the Hands of Time

**38**

**Turn Back the Hands of Time**

_Misty Mount_

_Sunday morning:_

It was one of those lazy days, when the air was cool and calm with a slight breeze, and the ocean sheened to green glass. Down on the beach, a tall dark-haired girl and a green-eyed boy with glasses chased each other along the sand, their feet sinking into the wet sand and getting washed by the ebb and flow of the sea. Both were dressed casually in shorts and shirts with a dolphin logo, in the girl's case, and a mermaid in the boy's. "Come and get me, Harry!" Katie called, laughing.

Then she turned and ran, her dark hair streaming behind her like wings.

Harry chased her, running close behind, his feet kicking up wet sand, grinning.

Katie was laughing so hard she couldn't run, and so Harry caught her easily. He scooped her up and said, in his best imitation of a pirate, "Arrr . . .I've caught me a pretty maid, now what shall I do with her?"

"Let me go, you smartarse!" She pretended to struggle.

He tickled her and she shrieked. "Stop it!"

"What fer? I likes it when a lady laughs," Harry growled, still aping his pirate persona.

"You're evil, Snape!"

"Yup, I am the worst pirate to ever sail the seven seas!" He turned and walked into the ocean. "Say you'll live with me, milady?"

"Never!"

"What, never?"

"No! Never!"

"Then into the drink ye shall go!" And with that he tossed her into the water.

She gasped and yelped, for the water was not yet quite warm. "Harry, you-you _prat_!" Then she cupped water in her hands and splashed him good.

While he was coughing and wiping off his glasses, she grabbed his ankle and yanked hard, pulling him down into the water.

"Ha! The mermaid strikes again!" she smirked.

Further down the beach, a blond boy was sitting on a sand dune, kneeling next to a girl with brown curling hair, they were building a sand castle. Both of them looked over at the other couple and shook their heads at the couple's antics. "Great Merlin, but they're like a couple of animals!" Draco remarked, sounding rather uppercrust and snooty. His gray eyes twinkled.

"They are rather silly," admitted Hermione. "You'd never do that to me."

"Certainly not," Draco smirked. "Malfoys don't throw their dates into the ocean."

"Thank goodness for that. After what happened, I don't care if I ever set foot on a boat again." Hermione declared, patting some more sand along the wall into place.

"You shouldn't be afraid of the sea, 'Mione. Not so long as I'm with you."

"I'm not. I just would rather avoid it."

"I understand. I would never toss you into the ocean without asking . . ." he said slyly. "However . . .burying you in the sand is fair game!"

He gestured with his wand and sand swirled about her until she was buried up to her neck.

"Draco! What are you doing?"

"Making sure you can't get away . . .and having some fun." He leaned in and kissed her on the lips. "Mmm . . .you taste like strawberries."

"And you taste like buttermilk pancakes," she murmured. "Delicious!"

"I'm so lucky," he said. "Because now I have everything I've ever wanted. A decent family, although Harry can be annoying sometimes, a home I can actually enjoy returning to, and you, sweet witch."

He kissed her again and Hermione allowed herself to relax and let Draco make her feel all warm and tingly inside.

"I wish you didn't have to leave tomorrow," she sighed.

"I know. But . . .we'll see each other again." Draco said. "Right now though, let's forget about goodbye . . .and concentrate on now."

And for once, Hermione had nothing to say.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

_Prince Manor_

_Monday, early afternoon:_

Upon their arrival back at the manor, the Snapes separated for an hour, Severus wished to practice some _kin-sa-dor_, Harry decided to write a letter to Aunt Petunia, and Draco went to play with a very overeager Cafall. The misthound was delighted that they were home again, and couldn't stop licking them and jumping up on them, wagging his tail.

"Draco, take this ill-mannered pup outside and let him run till he drops," Severus ordered after he had his face licked thoroughly for the fifth time in five minutes.

"Okay, Dad." He whistled at the misthound. "Cafall, let's go find some rabbits! Who's a good dog?"

Cafall bayed happily and raced out of the door. Draco quickly jogged after him. he spent the better part of an hour with the young dog, watching him track a rabbit, throwing sticks for him to retrieve and wrestling in the grass with the dog.

Draco had never been allowed to have a dog when he was a child, Lucius believed dogs were slobbery undignified beasts and so the only pet Draco had ever had was Stormrider, his owl. And while he loved Stormy, the dignified owl was not exactly the cuddly type. Cafall, though, was a rough and tumble hunting hound, with a love of running and he adored his masters, and was willing to play for hours and then flop down next to Draco while he baited a line and sleep.

Cafall was also a good listener, Draco had told him several things about Hermione that he wanted to do for her, and his hopes for a future with her as his wife someday. He had poured into Cafall's satin ear his anger at the legacy Lucius had left him, that of the Death Eater's son, and how people still looked at him warily. Sometimes he complained about Severus being too strict and Cafall, unlike Harry, never told him to quit bitching and moaning.

After twenty-five minutes, Cafall was panting and happy to drink the water Draco set out for him and sprawl with the boy in the sun, letting the bees buzz about them, drawing nectar from the flowers, and the scent of merlinnas perfuming the air.

So peaceful, Draco mused, his hands behind his head. Cafall was lying with his head on Draco's stomach, and Draco scratched his ear absently while he enjoyed the quiet of the afternoon. There hadn't been too many moments like this at Malfoy Manor, for there he had always been under Lucius' critical eye. But here, at Prince Manor, he could just be himself, not the Malfoy heir, but a fifteen-year-old boy.

He dozed in the sun for about an hour before he heard Stormrider's loud hoot. Opening his eyes, Draco saw his owl winging his way down to him with a letter in his beak.

Stormrider landed gently upon Draco's shoulder and proffered him the letter. Draco took it, gave his bird a treat and then Stormy flew off to hunt with Hedwig.

Draco examined the letter, it was addressed to _Lord Draco Malfoy_ and the return address was_ Dillon and Grigellham Law Offices._ Draco recognized that name, it was the name of Lucius' personal solicitor.

HSSSHSSSHSSS

Harry sat at the kitchen table, writing rapidly on Snape's best parchment. He had not heard from Petunia and Dudley and Sirius since before the last task. He wondered if all were okay with them and how things were getting on.

_Dear Aunt Petunia,_

_I'm finally finished with school and back home here with Dad and Draco and Cafall. And Voldemort is gone too, as I'm sure you know if you read The Daily Prophet. So now we're all free of that madman's greed and cruelty. It's a new age for the wizarding world and also our family. _

_Dumbledore has promised an acquittal for Sirius, and I hope it's gone through already, so you can all come out of hiding and visit us. Hope all is well with you and Dudley and Sirius too. I know it's been tough on you, being in hiding, but now it's over and you and Dudley can make a new home somewhere. I'd offer you to come and stay at the manor, but that's my dad's decision, not mine._

_If you can, write back and let me know if you want to come for a visit. Hope you have a great summer._

_Your nephew,_

_Harry Snape_

He placed the letter in an envelope once the ink had dried and addressed it to Petunia Dursley c/o Grimmauld Place and then he called Hedwig and asked her to deliver it. The snowy owl chuffed lovingly in his ear and then flew off, happy to have a letter to deliver.

Severus entered the kitchen then, getting a snack after his workout. His father's lean body was well-muscled and in his black _kin-sa-dor_ outfit, reminded Harry of a ninja. He looked perfectly composed and not a hair was out of place, despite the fact that he had put himself through a grueling workout some ten minutes before. In his standard teaching robes, Severus looked intimidating, but not like a warrior, the way he did now. The tunic and breeches he wore were designed to allow freedom of movement and yet be like a second skin and they emphasized the professor's well-muscled thighs and shoulders.

He poured himself a glass of merlinna juice from the pitcher, Harry knew he wasn't the only one who liked it, though Draco claimed it was too sweet for him. Then Severus got a piece of cheese and some bread and turned to sit down at the table. "Finished your letter to your aunt already?" he asked his son.

"Yes. I just sent it off with Hedwig. I . . .invited Aunt Petunia and Dudley to come for a visit. Sirius too, if he wants. Is that . . .okay with you?" Harry asked hesitantly, now wondering if he should have asked his father first. "I know you and Sirius don't really get on 'cause of what he did to you at school . . ."

Severus nodded. "That is so, and I doubt I will ever be fond of the man. However, he is your godfather, and based upon his letters to you, he has come to accept me as your father and have grown up considerably. That being so, I believe I can tolerate him for a week without succumbing to the temptation to hex him."

"Thanks, Dad." Harry said sincerely, knowing how big a concession Severus was willing to make for him. Sirius and he had been bitter enemies at school and Harry knew that Severus still had trouble forgiving Sirius for almost killing him at the Shrieking Shack. Then he recalled something else and said, "Uh . . .will they be able to come onto the grounds? Won't the wards needed to be adjusted?"

"No, because the wards will permit those bearing a blood tie to enter Prince Manor. Your aunt, though a Muggle, is related to you through your mother, and so is your cousin. Sirius Black is also related to the Prince family by blood, though the tie is distant. Come with me, I'll show you."

Harry rose and followed Severus to the library. He watched as Severus reached up and took down a huge leatherbound volume stamped with the Prince family crest and set it upon a reading table. "Look here, Harry. This book is the Prince Family heritage book. It's a compilation of all the Prince family and all it's branches-heirs, their siblings, spouses, children and grandchildren back to the time of Merlin. It has been in the family for generations, and when a new direct descendant of the Prince line is born, their name goes in this book, to be recorded forever in its pages. It also links up other wizarding families and their ties to our House."

Severus opened the book, it was so old that the parchment was yellowed and cracked in some places. Harry saw that the pages held lineage charts, pages upon pages, as well as some brief tales and facts about the Prince family members. "Is Uncle Phil in here?"

"No, since he is a Snape and not a Prince. The only two Snapes in here are you and I." He traced his finger from their names to the Malfoys and then to the Blacks. Harry was surprised to see that he was more closely related to Draco than Sirius. "Is it true that all the pureblood families are related?"

"Yes. There was a time when pureblood only married pureblood and so eventually all the families became linked. But soon they had to start looking for other people to marry, like Muggleborns and half-bloods, because marrying your first cousin produced children with mental instability and other disorders—look at Bellatrix LeStrange and you'll understand what I mean."

"She was a nutter, all right," Harry said feelingly. "I'm not sorry she's dead."

"I don't know of anyone who is, except perhaps Voldemort." Severus shut the book and handed it to his son. "You should take this and read it over the summer. It's important that you learn about your heritage, since as the Heir Apparent, someday you will have to teach this to your children when I am gone. A wise man once said, "In order to know where you're going, you must first remember where you've been." Our ancestors were pretty interesting, so it's not all dull names and dates, there are stories and anecdotes for almost every Prince heir back to the founding of the House."

"That' s an awful lot of history, Dad."

"I know and you don't have to memorize it all at once, but you should at least read a page a day, if you can. You have much to learn about the manor as well, and I think it best if we took it in stages. So, the first thing I'll teach you is the timeclock. Let's go into the den and take a look."

Once more Harry trailed Severus and took a seat on the couch, depositing the bulky heritage book onto the coffee table.

Severus came back to the couch, holding the hourglass-shaped clock in his hands. The top of the clock showed two sets of faces, one Harry knew was attuned to time in the world outside of Prince Manor and the other was for time inside the manor. Severus had used the clock twice since Harry had come to live here, once to give Harry time to get to know him and fix up the manor, and the other time had been to give Harry and Draco time to quit bickering and start acting like siblings.

The clock had silvery gold sand within it and it had been handcrafted by the fae.

Severus cleared his throat. "The first thing you need to know about the time clock is that it is never to be used frivolously. You only are allowed twelve times in your lifetime to use it and that is all. So think carefully before you use a time travel device."

"Is it anything like a time turner?"

"Almost, except that the timeclock can take you back to a specific day, but you cannot alter the outcome of the events."

"Why not?"

"Because time is like a great river. Toss a pebble in a pond and there will be ripples, but no effect. The events of the past are already fixed in the time stream and it would take a very unscrupulous wizard to travel back in time and try to change it. The fae do not believe in trying to change the past, they are the ones who built the timeclock after all."

"Then why have it?"

"To give the heirs time to accomplish certain tasks, such as prepare for a difficult test, or practice more with a certain spell or weapon. I used it to give us more time together than the few weeks we would have had ordinarily. Tampering with the timestream can have disastrous results, Harry. The fae have a saying, _"Let the past remain in the past, and the future be unknown, for to do otherwise is to cause the center of the world to collapse." _Basically, what it means is that tampering with past events can create paradoxes and ruin the stability of the universe. No fae wizard, even an Unseelie, is foolish enough to try it. At least, none that I know of. There are certain things you simply do not play about with, no matter the reason."

"So I guess that's why you never used the timeclock to go back and save Mum, right? Or prevent her from marrying James?" Harry surmised.

"Right. No matter how much I wished to do so, those events had already happened and changing them would have ripped a hole in the fabric of the timestream. Plus, an ordinary wizard, even one with fae blood, cannot alter prior events without draining himself down to nothing. A fullblooded fae can do so, but even then, the doing is fraught with peril. As far as I know, such a thing was attempted only once, and the resulting catastrophe caused Atlantis to fall and sink beneath the sea. And that was thousands of years ago, before the Roman Empire ever existed, before Troy fell. And the fae who attempted it destroyed himself."

"So the timeclock can really only be used for personal use while at the manor?"

"Yes. At the manor, there is no danger of seeing yourself or of being tempted to alter past events. However, the heir can only use the timeclock a total of twelve times, and after that it goes dormant until the Heir Apparent becomes the new heir. So you have to consider carefully what you are using it for. I myself have used the clock a total of three times, once before you were born during the First Wizard War, and twice with you and Draco."

"How do you use it?"

"You need to set it, using the keys located here," Severus turned over the clock and showed Harry two keys stuck to its base. "Remove them and place them here, at the bottom back portion in their keyholes . . ." The base of the clock was a thick pedestal, with two keyholes located at the back. "When you insert the keys, you must turn both of them simultaneously to activate the clock, and then look at the two dials, one which is set to the present time and the other to a time in the past. Before you use the keys, you must first determine how long you wish to remain in the past and when you wish to return to the present. You can set the clock for any date—month, day, year, hour, minute . . .down to the second. I recommend coming back to nearly the same time you left, give or take a few minutes."

"Okay, I get that, but Dad, what's to prevent someone from using the clock even if he's not the heir?"

"The timeclock will only respond to one who bears a Medallion of Inheritance, and the only two people who do at the present time are me and you. In that way, the clock prevents itself from being sold by an heir strapped for cash or being used by an unscrupulous person who visits the manor."

"Oh. That makes sense."

"Harry, this manor is very old, and filled with many old magics and secrets. In time, I shall reveal all of what I know to you, but it may take this summer and the next for you to absorb it all, and some things you may never fully understand, but will simply have to accept as is," Severus told him. "Right now you should study the lineage book and think about the timeclock."

"Can it wait till after lunch? I'm sort of starving." Harry said plaintively. His stomach had been growling and crying for food for the past half-hour.

Severus gave a rueful chuckle. "Boys! You're always ruled by your stomachs at this age. Go on, find your brother, Harry. I'll fix us up some sandwiches and a salad." He waved off his son.

Harry raced out the back door and found Draco sitting on the porch, reading a letter. Cafall was dozing at his feet, clearly tuckered out after playing. "Hey, Dragon. You hungry, or do you just want to sit and moon over your letter from Hermione?"

A comment like that would have once been the start of a quarrel between them, but Draco had stopped being so touchy recently, and could now chuckle at how much he missed Hermione, secure in the knowledge that she loved him. "This isn't from Hermione," he said, waving the letter under Harry's nose. "It's from the Malfoy family solicitors."

"Oh? Is it something important?"

"Yes, it has to do with my inheritance of Malfoy Manor. I'll tell you more when we go inside and Dad's there to hear it too."

Some ten minutes later, they were all enjoying sandwiches and crisps, plus spring water, when Draco decided to let them all in on the information the solicitor had sent him. "Dad, today I got a letter from _Dillon and Grigellham Law Offices_. They tell me that because of my . . .Lucius' past activities as a Death Eater, they wish to search the manor to see if there are any dark magic objects around, and if so, they will be confiscating them, but I won't be charged with a fine from the Ministry since I'm not responsible for what my father did. When I'm seventeen, I shall inherit Malfoy Manor and need to live there for a period of fourteen days, no less. Apparently there are wards upon there that will prevent the heir from entering the manor unless he agrees to those terms. I agreed to that too."

"That is welcome news," Severus said, sounding pleased. "Did they say anything about the other Malfoy properties and funds?"

Draco shook his head. "No, sir. I assume they were placed in my vault. The money, that is. The property can be assessed and whatever money I make off them now, ought to be placed in the vault as well."

"Did they say if they wish to see you? Are there documents that require your signature and mine as your guardian?"

"Yes, there was something about titles and deeds."

"We shall pay a visit to them tomorrow." Severus said. "Reply back to them and let them know we shall be there."

Draco cleared off the table and went to pen a letter, while Harry finished the last bit of his sandwich and wondered if Petunia would be dropping by someday soon, in answer to his invitation. It would be nice to see his aunt and cousin again and see how things were going. So far, minus the sailboat disaster, this was shaping up to be a fine summer holiday.

**Thanks everyone for being patient while I wrote this one. I was away most of the day and night at my neice's baby shower, she's having a girl! **

**Next: Petunia shares a surprise with Harry and then comes to visit. Will Severus be able to tolerate Sirius? Yes or no? What about Sirius tolerating Sev? Or Dudley and Draco? What do you think should or could happen?**


	39. Petunia's Surprise

**39**

**Petunia's Surprise**

The next morning, Severus rousted his sons out of bed quite early. Both of them had stayed up rather late the previous night, first playing Dragons Wild in Harry's room, and then Draco had gone to pen a letter to Hermione, and Harry went and read a few pages of the Prince Inheritance Book. As a result, both boys groaned and dawdled, refusing to get up until their father returned to each of their rooms and dumped a Snape Special—a bucket of freezing water—upon them and bellowed in their ears, "GET UP, YOU LAZY LOUTS! RIGHT NOW!"

Loud screams of protest followed this, but it did the trick. Both boys were wide awake and not inclined to bury their heads back under their pillow and snatch a few more winks.

"Dad, how _could_ you?" sputtered Harry, using his wand to dry himself off. But his bedding was still soaking wet and he was shivering. "That's cruel and unusual punishment!"

"So is having to strain my voice shouting at you to wake up," replied his father testily. "Once ought to be enough. Meet me in the bathroom. I have a lesson to teach you and Draco."

"What lesson?" Harry called wonderingly, but his father had already glided from his room down the hall to his brother's.

Harry hesitated, wondering if he ought to get dressed first, then decided against it. _What kind of lesson could Dad want to teach us now? I already know how to brush my teeth. Unless it involves a good mouthwashing?_ But no, if Harry had been in that sort of trouble, Severus would have told him straight out. And Harry hadn't used any foul language in front of Severus recently. Not even when the water had cascaded all over him.

"Harry! Quit dawdling and get in here!" Draco yelled.

Harry rolled his eyes and went down the hall.

He found the bathroom he shared with Draco to have been enlarged slightly, so that the counter was longer and had more space inbetween the two sinks. Upon the counter was an array of shaving soaps, a styptic pencil, warmed towels, two large mugs, badger-bristle brushes, aftershave cologne and three gleaming silver razors.

"Huh? You're giving us a _shaving lesson_?" Harry blinked and automatically felt along his jaw, where some dark peach fuzz was beginning to grow. He eyed his brother, who had a lighter growth, but it was thicker. Harry felt a little jealous, then he recalled Draco was older than he was, and so would have more hair growth.

"I am. You're almost fifteen, Harry, and I can see that you need to begin learning the art of a close shave now . . .and I'm not talking about your penchant for getting out of trouble by the skin of your teeth!" He frowned severely at his sons. "That goes for you as well, Draco. Your meeting with the solicitors this morning is important, and so you have to cultivate a cultured appearance as befits your rank."

"Yes, sir," Draco yawned, wondering how long this lesson would take. "Is that why you made us get up so bloody early?"

Snape nodded. "Yes, now quit your bloody grousing, Draco Michael. Watch me."

"Why can't we just learn a spell?" asked Harry curiously.

"Do you want to cut open your throat?" asked his father sharply. "It was discovered a long time ago that shaving spells were too dangerous for novice wizards to cast. Too many of the little brats died trying to "shave like Daddy", and so they were banned and revoked. No one uses them today. Probably why most of the old school wizards grow beards. You may choose to or not when you come of age, though I personally find beards very cumbersome and they tend to get stuck in everything, including your cauldron while brewing and your soup bowl while eating." Severus grimaced. "When you are older, you will need to shave every day, but for now, once a week is sufficient."

"What do we do first?" asked Harry, picking up a brush and examining it.

Severus swatted his knuckles. "Put that down and wait until I tell you to pick it up. Haven't you learned to follow directions by now?"

Harry rubbed his hand and gave Severus an indignant look. "I was just looking."

"Look with your eyes, not with your hands, Mr. Snape."

Draco snickered, for Severus sounded just like Narcissa when he said that. He stopped when Severus turned and glared at him.

"Don't act so smug, Mr, Malfoy. Your hand got many a smacking from me before you learned to keep it from touching everything you saw as a child."

Now it was Harry's turn to look smug.

Draco flushed a little. He had forgotten that Snape knew all his naughty little boy phases. He wished his father didn't have such a good memory. How long did it take before a wizard went senile?

"Ahem!" Severus cleared his throat. "First, you take the warmed moist towel here and wrap it around your face, like so." He picked up the towel and demonstrated. "Leave it there for about five minutes to open your pores and soften the beard. A soft beard is easier to shave. You, however, probably need only three minutes, since all you have is fuzz."

"At least we have _something,_" Draco muttered. "And I'm _fifteen_, not almost."

"You're so mature for your age, I nearly forgot," Severus teased, wrapping the towel about his face.

His boys copied him. Harry found the warmed wet towel delightful. It smelled faintly of wintergreen.

Then Severus had them remove the towel and showed them how to lather up the shaving soap in the mug, wetting the brush with hot water and stirring till it was nicely foaming. "Now, take the brush and run it lightly over your face, just enough to get a good covering over your beard. Like so."

Harry couldn't help chuckling at the sight of his father with lather all over him.

"Harry, what is so amusing?"

"It's just . . .well . . .you look like Father Christmas like that."

"Or Dumbledore's little brother!" Draco chimed in.

Severus just rolled his eyes. "Enough of your mouth. Go on, do as I said."

He waited till both boys had lathered their faces enough. Then he picked up the razor.

"Observe. This is a safety razor, I figured it would be easier for you to learn with one of these rather than the old-fashioned straight razor. Less chance of you cutting yourself that way. Although you _will_ cut yourself at least once your first time." He pointed to the white styptic pencil. "When you do, stop and apply that styptic pencil there to stop the bleeding." He indicated they should each take a razor. "Your first stroke should be with the grain of your beard, in other words, the way the hair grows. Wash off the lather and take a look in the mirror to see which way the hair is growing."

"But Dad, I just got it nice and fluffy," Harry protested.

"Harry, for the love of Merlin . . .! Just do as I tell you without arguing for once!" his exasperated father growled.

Harry rinsed his face and then peered hard at himself in the mirror.

So did Draco.

"All right. Have you figured it out?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Good. Re-lather."

"Now, pull the skin slightly where you mean to shave and put the razor against your skin and shave gently along the jawline." Severus showed them, moving slowly and carefully. "When the razor is full, clean it with water from the tap."

He rinsed his razor.

A second later Draco yelped. "Ow! Damn it, I cut myself." He went to dab the small slice with a towel.

Snape caught his hand. "No, put the pencil on it first." He took his son's chin in his hand and pressed the white pencil to the bleeding area.

"Hey, that stings!"

"Don't be a baby, Draco. It doesn't sting half as bad as the cut would if you got shaving lather in it." Severus pointed out. "Continue. Like I said, cuts are normal the first time."

_Not for me_, Harry thought, determined to not cut his face at all his first time and thus be better than Draco. He carefully shaved down to his chin and then started to go around it without waiting for Severus' instructions.

"OW!" he yelled, for he had just given himself a very painful nick. The bloody razor was too sharp!

Blood dripped down his chin onto the counter.

Draco gaped at him. "Hells bells, Harry, what did you do, open a vein?"

"Ah . . .shut your gob, Draco!" his brother growled.

"Hold still," Severus ordered, grabbing his son's chin and applying the styptic.

Harry winced but didn't cry out, even though it _did_ sting like blazes.

"You should have waited for me before you shaved your chin," scolded Severus. "It's tricky and where one usually cuts oneself."

"How many times did you cut yourself the first time, Dad?" asked Harry slyly.

"None of your business, son," answered Snape.

He continued to shave, showing them how to repeat the shave and go against the grain for an even closer shave. Then he had them rinse their faces in cold water and pat them dry with a towel.

"My face tingles." Draco remarked.

"It always does the first time." He picked up the bottle of Old Spice aftershave he had bought at the chemist in town the other day. "Rub a small bit on your hands and then massage it into your face. It will soothe your skin and make you smell attractive to the ladies." He smirked.

"Dad, please!" both his sons cried.

They did as he had said, and the next instant were yelling, "Ow! It stings!" and "Damn, why is it burning?"

"Ahh . . .I forgot to mention, be careful around your cuts," Severus added. "Relax, it will stop in a few seconds, quit acting like you fell in a hornet's nest." The boys were wincing and had their hands clamped to their faces, wriggling.

"Ow! You . . .you did that on purpose!" Harry accused.

"Experience is the best teacher," his father smirked.

"You're evil," Draco grumbled.

"Enough! Clean up in here and get dressed. Breakfast will be on the table in ten minutes, and you had better be dressed presentably and sitting down, or else no brooms for the afternoon."

"Am I going to the solicitor too?" asked Harry.

"Yes. You may as well accompany us." Severus said, then he left the room, moving with an easy grace his sons envied. "Hurry up!"

"I'm _never_ doing that again," Draco declared as he rinsed off his razor, mug, and brush.

"You _want_ to grow a beard like Dumbledore?" Harry gaped at him.

"Hell, no! But rather that than cutting myself up like a bloody piece of meat! Look at me!" He indicated three small nicks along his jawline.

"Looks all right to me," said Harry, indicating his own face, which had two nicks, though the first one was deep and outshone Draco's tiny ones.

"You would say that!" snapped Draco. "Considering you have a large scar on your forehead so you're used to girls not noticing you." An instant later he was apologetic. "Sorry. I was out of line."

Harry waved off his apology. He was hungry and didn't care who had gotten less nicks. He just wanted breakfast.

HSSSHSSHSSS

The visit to the solicitor went well, Draco and Severus signed several forms and then set up a schedule of monthly reports so they could keep track of the money each property and trust earned and lost. When Draco came of age, he would be a wealthy young man, and likely considered a great catch for the daughters of pureblood families. But Draco refused to even contemplate marrying anyone save Hermione. "Let those other witches find some other bloke to sniff around. I'm off limits." He stated candidly when one of his solicitors made a joke to that effect.

Severus swatted him on the back of the head. "Mind your mouth, boy! You've been hanging around Mr. Weasley too much, you're starting to develop foot in mouth disease!"

"It's true!" Draco protested, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm only marrying Hermione."

"There are more polite ways to state that," Severus scolded. _Boys! I just don't know whether to laugh at them or smack them sometimes!_ He apologized to the solicitors, who were smirking up their sleeves. Clearly young Lord Malfoy kept his guardian on his toes!

They arrived back at the manor in time for lunch, and ate along with Smidgen and Cafall. The little fae cat was much less mobile due to her crippled wing, but she still managed to blink to and from places with grace and happily enjoyed her new home and the wizards who shared it with her.

_*Severus, a letter arrived while you were out,*_ she informed the elder wizard, ever the messenger. _*It is there upon the silver salver in the den.*_

Severus Summoned the letter to him with a flick of his wand, and opened it. It was from Petunia, asking whether he would mind her and Dudley and Sirius stopping by for a visit for the weekend. She explained that they had received a note from Harry and wanted to make sure Severus agreed before coming to Prince Manor. "Thank you for telling me, Smidgen," he said calmly, as he wrote out a reply to it.

"Who's it from?" asked Draco.

"Harry's aunt, Petunia Dursley."

"The one with the spoiled rich brat?" clarified his godson.

"Yes, although Petunia says Dudley had changed for the better since last we saw him," Severus said. "I hope by Merlin's bones that is so. They shall be coming to the manor this Saturday and staying over. I expect you to be on your best behavior, Draco. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, sir."

"I know I needn't tell you to behave as well, Harry, do I?"

"No, sir." He found he was actually rather excited to see his aunt and cousin again. As well as Sirius. He wondered if they looked different now, he knew Dudley had lost weight. He wondered if Petunia had stopped wearing her hair in that severe-looking bun or if Sirius had gained enough weight to quit looking gaunt and had shaved off his beard.

Well, he would see come Saturday. Right now all he wanted was to go and fly his broom in and out of the trees in the orchard. "Draco, care for a race?"

"Why not? Just don't go crying to Dad if you lose, little brother."

Harry made a face at him. "You wish! I'm going to dust your arse, Dragon."

"You and what army?"

"No fighting, boys! Or else!" Severus reminded them, withdrawing the wooden spoon from his pocket.

"Okay, sir!" his sons gulped, knowing full well what would happen were they to be caught pounding each other the way they had done last summer.

They finished lunch, cleared away the remains, and then shot out the back door, still insulting each other genially.

Severus tucked the spoon back in his pocket. He hadn't ever intended to use it on them, but the threat was enough to keep them in line. Sometimes intimidation worked better than corporal punishment on his children . . .actually it worked much better. And he much preferred it to using the spoon.

He rubbed the heel of his hand into his eyes and sighed. He just hoped that this visit didn't end in disaster. He wasn't as concerned about the boys getting along with Dudley as he was of Sirius Black getting along with him.

_*Why such a long sigh, Severus?*_ Smidgen queried, perching upon his shoulder and beginning to groom her fur. _* Does the prospect of having your relatives over dismay you?*_

"Not really. But one of them is an old school rival of mine and I am uncertain how he will tolerate me or I him," Severus said, and recounted a few instances of his ongoing rivalry with the Marauders.

The shimmerling absorbed all of Severus' memories he chose to share, and began to purr soothingly. _*Do not fret, my friend. All will be well, they are guests in your home, after all. And though hospitality is sacred, so is the right of the home owner to show guests the door if they annoy you too much.*_

Severus smirked, one corner of his mouth twitching up. "I shall remember, Smidgen. Will you be showing yourself to them?"

The fae cat's tail twitched lazily. _*Maybe and maybe not. It all depends on their manners and temperament. We shall have to see.*_

Severus nodded, thinking that he could wait for Saturday to come. Until he reminded himself that he was master of his own house and could send Sirius Black packing if he reverted back to his old ways.

HSSSHSSSHSSS

Saturday dawned clear and sunny. Draco and Harry woke without any prompting from their father and ate breakfast and made sure the manor was spit polished and shined, since Harry had told them Petunia loved a tidy house. By the time mid-morning rolled around the manor sparkled inside and out, and Harry was itching to pace around and around. Severus had departed scant minutes before to escort Sirius and the Dursleys through the Evermist to the gates, but Harry was impatient. He began to walk up and down.

"Sit down, for Godsake!" Draco ordered, lounging in a chair. "You're acting worse than Cafall." The misthound puppy was sitting obediently beside the hearth, right where Severus had ordered him to.

Harry stopped and made himself sit down.

An instant later he was on his feet as the door opened.

Cafall pricked his ears and barked a greeting, but stayed where he was.

Severus entered first, followed by Petunia, Sirius, and Dudley.

Harry stared at his relatives and thought maybe they had gotten make-overs. Petunia was no longer wearing her hair in a severe style that made her look older than her thirty-eight years. Instead she had her hair styled in a short wave that complimented her features and made her look almost . . .pretty. She also wasn't wearing any of those unflattering dresses that made her look thin as a twig. She was wearing a lovely deep blue skirt and blouse swirled through with purple which accented her figure, and her shoes were stylish sandals.

Harry's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Wow! Aunt Petunia, you look—" he stopped, not knowing how to say she looked great without being rude.

"A sight better than last time, no?" she returned. She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek and ruffled his hair. "Thank you for inviting us, Harry. My, you've grown an inch and a half since I last saw you! Your father must be feeding you Growth Serum." She joked.

"Hardly. He's fifteen, Tuney. He grows an inch overnight," Severus said. "Petunia, meet Draco Malfoy, my other son."

Draco rose and extended a hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Dursley."

"Oh, thank you. The pleasure is mine. And it's not Dursley anymore, but well, we'll explain that later. Dudley, come and say hello to your cousin and his brother, who's also your cousin now."

If Harry had though Petunia looked different, he nearly collapsed when he saw Dudley.

His cousin was no longer the beached baby whale he had been once upon a time. He had lost about seventy pounds and was now a stocky broad-shouldered boy, resembling his father in his build, but his mother in his facial features, now you could see it since it was not covered by fat. He was dressed in a blue and yellow rugby shirt and shorts, he too had grown taller and topped Harry by a head. He carried a duffel in one hand and was looking around, wide-eyed.

"This is your _house_, Harry?" he exclaimed. "Crikey! It's . . .really big! How come you never told me your family was rich."

Harry shrugged. "I didn't know about it then. How have you been, Dud?"

"All right. Been stuck inside Grimmauld Place most of the time." He looked over at Draco. "Hello, I'm Dudley."

Draco greeted him politely as well, then stiffened as Sirius came into view.

Sirius was dressed in casual black denims and a crimson shirt with a golden lion on the front. His hair had been trimmed and combed and he no longer had a beard, just a small mustache. He looked extremely handsome, like a rogue highwayman.

"Harry!" he marched over and hugged his startled godson. "You look real good, kid. Like . . .your . . .err . . .father." It was only then that he noticed Harry didn't look like James, but Severus, and for one moment he felt as if he had traveled back in time and was looking at a mirror image of Severus as a boy.

Finding out that Snape was Harry's real father in a letter was one thing, but seeing it in the flesh was quite another. But there was no doubting that this was Severus' son.

To cover his shock, he turned to Draco and said, "Hello, Malfoy."

Draco responded, shaking the other's hand.

Introductions over, Severus suggested they sit down and have some lunch. They all went into the kitchen. Severus had made several kinds of sandwiches and there were several salads and crisps as well as merlinna juice and lemonade. "Help yourselves."

Dudley stared at the pitcher of merlinna juice and finally asked, "What's that?"

"Merlinna juice," Harry answered.

"It'll make your hair curl," Draco teased.

Dudley looked a bit pale.

Draco snickered, then he said, "But it's very good to drink."

Dudley cautiously sipped it. "It is good!" He then asked, "Is it magical?"

"No." Harry laughed. "It's the juice of a fruit that grows on a tree in our orchard."

So far, so good.

"Harry and Draco will give you a tour of the grounds and the manor after lunch, if you want," Severus told the boy. Cafall nudged his hand, giving him pleading amber eyes. Snape glanced down at the misthound and said sternly, "No begging. Later you get scraps. Lay down."

Cafall sighed impatiently, but obeyed. He knew if he didn't, Severus wouldn't give him anything.

"What a beautiful dog!" Sirius commented. "Where did you get him?"

"He was a gift from my fiance to the boys." Severus explained. "A Christmas gift. He's a misthound, a fae breed."

"His name's Cafall, after King Arthur's hound," Harry told them.

Hearing his name, Cafall's tail began to wag, thumping loudly on the floor. But he did not rise from his position beside Severus' chair. When it came to the three wizards, Cafall obeyed Harry and Draco because they were older, though he would disregard a command by them if he felt like it, but Severus was Alpha and had his absolute obedience.

"Is that like a magic dog, Uncle Severus?" asked Dudley curiously. His mother had told him that he had to address the tall wizard that way, since Snape was his uncle.

"Yes. A misthound is incredibly intelligent and can track any prey through any kind of terrain, the fae use them exclusively as hunting dogs, and they get their name from being able to slip out of phase with the real world for a few moments, it makes them very hard to see or to hurt. But Cafall here is just a puppy still, and hasn't mastered that trick."

Dudley, Petunia, and Sirius looked impressed.

Then Sirius rose and went to kneel beside the puppy, who sniffed him curiously. Sirius stroked the long ears gently and thumped the dog's ribs affectionately. "I'll bet you want to be off running in the woods instead of stuck inside this pile of stone, yes?"

Cafall barked an affirmative. His eyes sparkled eagerly. _Hunt. Soon. After lunch. Alpha says lie down._ The misthound could not send like Smidgen, but Sirius was Animagus enough to understand the unspoken dog language even in human form.

He gave the pup's belly a scratch and said, "Maybe I'll join you, hmm? Good pup."

"Are you finished playing Dr. Dolittle with my dog, Black?" Severus asked dryly.

Sirius rose, shrugging. "Am I what? Who's Dr. Dolittle?"

"He was a vet who could talk to animals," answered Snape, without missing a beat.

"A Magical Creatures vet? Must have been a good one, then. Do you take Cafall to him?"

"Cafall is extremely healthy and has no need to see one," Severus replied, still deadpan.

"Stop it, Severus!" ordered Petunia, chuckling. "Dr. Dolittle isn't a real person, Siri, he's a fictional character in a Muggle storybook."

Sirius looked startled. "You mean, he's not real?"

"Only in your head, Black," said the Potions Master, then he smirked.

Sirius looked as if he couldn't decide whether to be angry or laugh at himself for falling for Snape's little joke. Finally he gave a soft chuckle and said, "Nice one, Snape. You had me going there for a bit."

"Sev's always been a wit," Petunia remarked. She waited until Sirius had resumed his seat before saying, a bit anxiously, "Severus, Harry, and Draco, I have an announcement to make." She set her hand upon Sirius' arm. "Sirius and I just got married a few days ago. We would have told you sooner, but . . .it was a small ceremony, in the courthouse. Nothing fancy." She gave them a tentative smile.

"Except you, Tuney," Sirius said, smiling at his new bride.

The three Snapes remained with their mouths open. They certainly had _not_ been expecting that news. But looking at the newlyweds, they could clearly see that the two were in love, it was in their eyes and the way they touched each other.

"Then, you're Petunia Black now?" clarified Harry. It sounded odd, but he discovered he was happy for his aunt and his godfather. Both of them deserved to find someone who made them happy, even if it was an unlikely pairing. Then again, it was no more strange than that of his own father and Sarai, sworn bodyguard to the Queen of the Seelie.

"I am," Petunia said proudly. Then she laughed softly. "All these years I spent fearing magic, and now I've gone and married a wizard. An Animagus, no less."

"But you get to pet and play with me in both forms, luv," Sirius said, smirking.

"Ugh! Siri, you're making me gag!" Dudley said, and the other two boys nodded, looking just as disgusted.

Severus recovered from the shock first. "Congratulations. I have no doubt Petunia will keep you in line, Black."

"I try," said his sister-in-law.

"If he riles her up, she grabs the frying pan," Dudley remarked, snickering.

Harry and Draco stared at each other for about two seconds before cracking up.

Sirius shot his stepson a resigned look. "Thanks ever so much, Diddy. Now your uncle thinks I'm some kind of pansy-arse."

"I always knew that," Severus drawled and his obsidian eyes sparkled.

Sirius glared at him.

Until Harry stopped laughing and said, "Don't worry, Uncle Siri, Dad's used to getting smacked with a sword from Sarai."

Sirius grinned. "Really?"

Severus unleashed a black look upon his son. "Harry Albus Snape, just wait till I get you in for practice again . . .I'm going to make you smart for that comment . . ."

"No fair, Dad. I'm only telling the truth," Harry protested, knowing full well he was dead next practice session.

"The truth from several years ago," Severus clarified. At Petunia's horrified look, he explained, "Sarai used to be my weapons instructor, and sometimes she would slap me with a wooden sword to correct a mistake. Don't look so horrified, Tuney, she only left bruises. But better that than bleeding your life away on the ground. However, I am good enough now to not need correction that way."

Sirius gaped at his former rival. "_You_ know how to use a sword, Sn—Severus?"

Severus nodded. "Sword and a fae form of unarmed combat called _kin-sa-dor_. I've heard the Aurors practice certain forms of unarmed combat too."

"They do. Pity I've forgotten most of it," sighed the other. He glanced around, ready to call a house elf for a refill on his drink. "You have house elves here?"

"No. The Princes are part fae and we do not enslave our Lower Court cousins." Severus told him. " Harry and Draco do the chores around the manor. Anything else you want you may get for yourself, like a Muggle household."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "That's a contradiction, you know."

"That's Prince Manor," Harry informed his godfather. Then he rose and helped Draco clear away the lunch dishes.

At Petunia's gesture, Dudley rose also and carried his plate over to the sink. "I can wash, if you want."

Harry did a doubletake. Had he heard right? Big D _offering_ to wash dishes? "You know how?"

"Yeah. Your dad taught me, remember?"

"Right," Harry said. "It's just . . ."

"What? You thought I'd forget?" Dudley bristled. "I'm not stupid, Harry. Just because I don't always get good marks in school like you used to . . ."

"Boys, stop quarreling and just wash the dishes," Petunia ordered and Harry and Dudley did as they were told.

Afterwards, they showed Dudley the bedrooms available, and Dudley just looked at them and said, "It's like a bloody hotel. How many rooms d'you have here anyway?"

"I don't know," Harry said, since neither he nor Draco had ever bothered to count them. "But you can take your pick of the rooms on this side."

Dudley took his time examining the rooms before finally choosing the one with green and white stripes. Draco Summoned his bag and floated it into the room. "There. Now, how about we go outside and you can see the pond and the orchard?"

"Do you have any other magical animals besides your dog here?" Dudley asked.

Draco and Harry exchanged glances. Should they tell Dudley about Smidgen?

Harry cleared his throat. "Uh . . .yeah there is, but she's sort of shy and doesn't show herself to strangers much. If she wants you to see her, you will."

"What is she?"

"A shimmerling." Draco told him. "A winged fae cat about three inches high, black with violet eyes and wings. You'll know her if you see her."

"She's afraid of humans?"

"No . . .but the fae don't trust many humans, because a long time ago, humans hunted and killed them. " Harry explained, then he led the way out of the manor.

**Things are going along all right for now . . .but they won't be for long. **

**I asked my father about the shaving tips, and based on what he told me, I wrote the above scene. Hope you all liked this one. **


	40. Sirius Misconceptions

**40**

**Sirius Misconceptions**

"What do you two do for fun around here anyhow?" asked Dudley after Harry and Draco had shown him about the orchard and pointed out the fae merlinna trees, though the fruit was not blossoming at this time, and led him to the lake as well.

"Draco fishes in the lake," Harry answered.

"Oh. Catch anything edible?" asked the other. Though he was no longer obese, Dudley still liked to eat and enjoyed food of whatever kind.

"Yes. There are trout and bass in there," Draco replied. "Usually we fry them for dinner."

Dudley licked his lips. "Sounds good. What else do you do?"

"We play Quidditch," Harry answered.

Dudley's brow wrinkled. "Quidditch?" Before Harry could explain, he exclaimed, "Oh, right! That's the magical sport Siri told me about. The one where you fly on brooms and score into a goal like you do football, right? Or maybe it's more like basketball."

"Actually, it's a lot more complicated than those sports," Harry began.

"It's also better than any Muggle sport ever invented," Draco stated haughtily.

Dudley bristled. "Hey, just because you magic people think you're better than normal people—"

"What are you saying, Muggle? That I'm not normal?" Draco snapped, his gray eyes glittering. "_You're_ the one who's not normal by _my_ lights—"

Dudley glowered right back at him, a pugnacious expression upon his face. "Where I come from, we call people like you weirdoes and freaks."

Harry grabbed Draco's arm before he could do something rash, like draw his wand or slug Dudley in the mouth. He glared at his cousin angrily. "Dudley, stop it! And you too, Draco! Comparing Quidditch to any Muggle sport is like trying to compare merlinnas and oranges. There _is_ no comparison. They're two totally different things. It's stupid to quarrel over them. What are you, primary school babies?"

He had wanted them to realize how juvenile they sounded, and when they both scowled at him, he realized he had also done one other thing—gotten them angry at him instead of each other.

"Who died and made you King of England, Harry?" his cousin snapped.

"Yeah, last time I looked, your name wasn't Severus Snape, lord of Prince Manor," Draco reminded him icily.

Harry didn't back down. He stared at his cousin and his brother in disapproval, his arms crossed over his chest, reminiscent of his father. "I'm the Heir to Prince Manor—"

Draco snorted, rolling his eyes. "Well, la-de-da!"

Dudley chortled. "I can remember when you were prince of Nothing, Harry, and your kingdom was the cupboard under the stairs and your subjects were mops and brooms and toilet bowls."

Harry stiffened, his hands clenching into fists. He hated being reminded of those days.

To his surprise, Draco came to his defense. "Real funny, Dursley. I wouldn't be too proud of the way you and your family treated my brother. I thought there was a law banning slavery in the United Kingdom."

"Shut up, you smart-arsed toff! I heard lots about you and _your family, _Malfoy! Like how your dad and mum were criminals and ended up in jail for life! And Siri told me all about how you were a big git to Harry at school, made fun of him and cast curses on him, so who are you to talk, huh?"

"I am _nothing_ like my parents, you bleeding prig!" snarled Draco. "Severus Snape is my father now, and he was never a Death Eater, and neither was I! You don't know a damn thing, you Muggle clot! At least _I _never pushed my cousin down the stairs or sniggered while my father beat him over something _you_ broke!"

"You lied and got him in trouble at school though!" Dudley cried. "So don't act so bleeding innocent, you sodding twit!"

"SHUT UP!" Harry bellowed, furious at the both of them. "You both were arseholes to me, okay? You want to keep on fighting over who was the bigger one, go right ahead! But I'm not going to stand here listening to it." With that, he turned on his heel and stalked away. He couldn't believe they had the nerve, not to mention the insensitivity, to bring up his former life that way. That was not something he wished to think about any longer, he wanted to put the past away and start anew, but both Dudley and Draco had now made that impossible.

"Stupid bollocks-licking turds, the pair of them!" he swore roundly as he stomped away towards the forest, where various wild animals, including the runespoor lived. "I should have hexed their tongues still." He was so angry at them he was practically breathing fire. Suddenly he wished he had never written that letter to Petunia. He and Draco had bee n getting along fine until Dudley showed up. _I thought he'd changed—ha! I'm such a dolt! He's still the same old Dudley, only difference is he knows more about wizards and magic now. _Harry was also angry at his godfather, for telling Dudley about how Draco and Harry used to be rivals. Why in Merlin's name had Sirius gone and told him that? It was none of Dudley's business what Draco had done. That was between Harry and his brother. _Another one who can't keep his yap shut! Dad was right, a dog barks loudest over another dog. _He wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but he thought it had something to do with Sirius being unable to keep a secret.

His temper was still simmering, and he decided to take a long walk to cool off, because the last thing he needed was to punch his brother or cousin out. That would only end up with him getting the rough edge of his father's tongue and possibly a good smack with Snape's wooden spoon as well.

_:Harry, is something wrong? You seem upset. What has happened?:_ Smidgen's mindvoice interrupted his brooding. _:Have you and Draco been quarreling again?:_

Harry turned and found the shimmerling hovering in the air. But the fae cat couldn't do so forlong, her wing was too damaged, and she landed gracefully upon his shoulder. "Hi, Smidgen." He gently stroked her with a fingertip. "My brother and my cousin were acting like gits. They made me really angry, so I left before I did something I'd regret. You know how my dad is about fist fights and dueling."

_:A wise decision, Harry. Your father would be proud of you for thinking before you acted.:_ the shimmerling praised.

Harry permitted himself a small smile. "Yeah, well, after what he did to me over the leprechaun and the green beer**, I've learned not to be so impulsive. Merlin, have I learned that!" He continued walking, Smidgen perched upon his shoulder. "Have you seen Dudley yet, Smidgen? Or my Aunt Petunia and my godfather . . .though I guess he's my uncle now too . . .Sirius Black?"

The shimmerling purred an affirmative. _:I have. One could hardly miss them.:_

"Are you going to let them see you?"

The dreamweaver slitted her violet eyes and sent, _:Perhaps. It depends. Shall I go and see what your brother and cousin are up to?:_

"Would you mind?"

_:Not at all.:_

Then she blinked from his shoulder, returning to where Dudley and Draco were still standing beside the pond, each one blaming the other for Harry leaving.

Smidgen sniffed, then sat down upon a low-hanging branch and sent to Draco, _:It was both your fault, now stop quibbling and go and apologize. Boys! Any excuse to quarrel and you'll keep right on arguing till the sun falls out of the sky.:_

Draco halted in mid-insult. _Smidgen! You've spoken with Harry? Where is he?_

_"Walking off his temper near the forest verge. He is very upset with you both. It was very insensitive to bring up his past that way.:_

_Oh. Thanks, Smidgen. I guess we'd better catch up to him and tell him we're sorry. Or at least I am._ Draco admitted, feeling ashamed of how he had upset his brother over a stupid disagreement of Muggle versus wizard sports. He bit his lip and turned to Dudley. "Look, Dursley. I don't really like you much, and I'm sure you don't like me either, but we need to go and apologize to Harry. We acted like insensitive gits and hurt him. What do you say? Truce?" He held out his hand.

Dudley hesitated, then took Draco's hand. "Truce. Do you know where Harry went?"

"Yes. Up by the forest." Draco replied calmly.

So the two went to where Harry waited and they both apologized for their hasty and nasty words. Dudley even went so far to tell Harry that he was sorry for what Uncle Vernon had done to his nephew. "Dad was unfair in a lot of ways to you, Harry. Especially in the way he treated you and me. Sirius says it turned me into a spoiled brat. But I . . .I don't want to be like that anymore. I'm sorry. Dad never should have—"

"—Don't, Dudley. I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay. Then we won't." Dudley looked about him. "So . . .what kinds of animals do you have around here? Any magical ones? Anything dangerous?"

Harry and Draco exchanged glances. Should they tell Dudley about the runespoor?

In spite of his tactlessness, Harry almost felt sorry for his cousin. He knew the other boy must feel sort of out of place in a household full of wizards, rather the same way Harry had felt out of place at the Dursleys. Harry supposed he shouldn't feel that way, considering all the misery Dudley had caused him over the years, but the fact was he didn't want to treat Dudley like a pariah, even if the other boy might deserve it. He wanted to try and have peace in his family, even if it meant being nice to Dudley.

So Harry said, "There's a whopping big snake that lives in the forest. It has three heads and it's venomous, like a viper."

"How big is it?" Dudley asked, looking slightly fearful. "As big as that python you set free at the zoo that time?"

"Bigger," Harry said. "And all three heads are intelligent and they can talk."

"For real? They can _talk_?" Dudley's mouth hung open.

"Harry means they can talk Parseltongue, not English," Draco clarified. "Which only he understands. Anyone else just hears a snake hissing."

"Oh." Dudley stared at Harry as if he had suddenly grown an extra head. "How come only you can talk to snakes?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I just can. It's a rare ability."

"When you talked to the snake, what did it say?"

"A lot of things. It's called a runespoor and it was unhappy staying where it was. So I offered it a home and it took it. I haven't seen it though since I brought it here," Harry mused. "I wonder how it's doing?"

"Can I have a look at it? Just a peek?"

"Runespoors are dangerous," Draco said.

"Only if you hurt them," Harry argued. "They don't attack without reason."

Draco looked skeptical.

"I can take you to see it," Harry said obligingly. "But you have to do exactly as I say. You have to be still and quiet and don't frighten it."

"Me, frighten the snake?" his cousin squeaked. "Shouldn't that be the other way around?"

"Just don't scream or shout and you'll be fine. The runespoor won't even approach you," Harry soothed. Then he started off into the woods.

Draco ran to catch up to him. "Harry, are you sure this is a good idea? Because I don't. Runespoors usually don't care for anyone other than a wizard Parselmouth."

"I'll make sure Dudley stays away from it, don't worry. And we'll both be there, so what can go wrong?"

"You don't really want an answer to that question, do you?" His brother hissed before allowing Harry to lead the way. "How do you know where to go?"

"I just do," Harry answered. He was unsure whether it was the link to the land as the Heir Apparent that allowed him to feel where the runespoor was, but feel it he did, in the back of his mind. The snake was like a glowing presence and as he grew nearer, the presence increased, like a game of hot and cold.

Soon they were deep among the trees and Harry led them off to the left, where a small stream crossed their path and the trail was twisting up and down and back. Once they had crossed the stream and followed the three twist backs up into a small hill where several rocks had fallen to make a kind of cave, Harry halted. He could feel the snake was within the rocky cave.

He motioned for Dudley and Draco to stay where they were. "The snake is inside there. Be still and quiet and I'll see if I can get him to come out."

Draco and Dudley both froze. Harry stepped away till he was about five feet from the entrance and hissed in Parseltongue, "Azella, Ashterith, Azeal, come out please! It's me, Harry Snape, the Speaker."

There came a long low hiss from inside the cave. "A moment, young S-speaker. We have s-s-omething to s-show you."

Harry could hear the soft rasp of scales against rock and dirt as the runespoor moved about. He wondered what it had to show him. A shed skin? Some kind of rock? He didn't think runespoors collected treasure like dragons. But he could be wrong.

Slowly, the runespoor emerged, Azeal's head was leading, while Azella was curled about a scintillating gold and crimson egg. The egg was so brightly colored that when the sun struck it, it appeared to burst into flames. Ashterith was also hovering about the egg, hissing in warning when he caught sight of Harry's companions, venom dripping from each fang.

"Who have you brought to s-s-see us-s-s this time?" hissed Ashterith.

"Ashterith, this is my cousin, Dudley."

All three heads examined the slightly quivering Dudley with interest.

Then Ashterith sniffed and spat, "Humph! He stinks of fear-scent."

"Look, S-s-peaker, at the egg we have produced!" crooned Azeal, justifiably proud of himself. "Azella keeps it warm with her body during the day and then we bury it in the warm earth in the cave while we hunt at night."

"Is it not beautiful?" Azella asked, curling her neck about the gleaming egg, which was about the size of a small cantaloupe. "S-s-soon I shall lay another and then we s-s-shall be the only runespoor to lay two eggs in the same clutch."

"That's great, Azella. I'm happy for you." Harry said sincerely.

"Uh, can you translate now, Harry?" Draco asked plaintively.

"Oh, right." He quickly told them what the runespoor had said, all except for the part about Dudley stinking of fear.

"How long before the second egg hatches?" Dudley asked, his eyes glued to the egg wrapped in Azella's coils. He wanted that egg the way he wanted nothing else.

Harry turned back and asked the runespoor.

"In two days-s-s." Ashterith replied. He rubbed his head lovingly over the egg held by Azella. "We s-s-shall hunt long tonight, to give Azella s-s-trength to birth the s-s-second s-s-snakeling."

"How are you settling in here?" Harry asked.

The runespoor assured him that it loved the cave and also the plentiful supply of game to hunt. "There is s-s-o much that we all can eat what we like best."Azeal said.

"This-s-s is a good place," Azella said.

"Unless loud s-s-melly humans come by," Ashterith stated tartly.

Harry took the hint and said goodbye to the volatile snake and beckoned to his brother and cousin to come away and leave the snake alone for now.

"Come back, S-speaker and s-s-ee us again when the s-s-snakelings have hatched," invited Azella.

"Thanks!" Harry called. He wondered how long it took a runespoor egg to hatch.

Dudley kept glancing behind him as they made their way back through the woods. The egg was so beautiful, like a crown jewel. _It's no fair! Harry gets to have all the cool pets and I don't have anything! I want that snake egg! I want a runespoor for a pet. _

HSSSHSSS

Severus had spent the better part of an hour showing Petunia and Sirius his home. They were suitably impressed at the size and the elegance of some of the rooms. But Sirius grew curious when he saw the room where Severus and the boys practiced their _kin-sa-dor. _"You're teaching Harry and Draco unarmed combat? Why? They're just kids, what do they need to learn that for?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Up until the end of the term, Harry had a homicidal maniac out for his blood and Draco had Housemates who would have cheerfully hexed or pummeled him into a grease spot. That would be reason enough for me to teach them self defense. But my main reason was so they could learn self-discipline and control over their emotions and magic. _Kin-sa-dor_ teaches that very well, and also gives them an edge should they ever be disarmed or lose their wands in combat. Neither of my sons will ever be a victim because they're wandless." _Like I was at school, Black._ Severus added silently. He might have agreed to tolerate the other for Harry's sake, but he would never forget.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense. Where did you learn it? When you were in school, you never knew anything like that."

"I had a half-fae instructor once I turned seventeen and came to live here with my grandfather. You ought to thank your lucky stars I never knew _kin-sa-dor_ in school. Otherwise you and Potter would have been mighty sorry."

Sirius actually had the audacity to laugh. "Oh, come on, Severus! You never could have taken us! Not even if you knew whatever it's called. We were bigger and stronger."

"And you fought unfairly," Severus reminded him sharply. "Hexing me from behind was not sporting."

"I never did that!"

"No? That day at the lake after OWLS? I seem to remember you attacking me with a wand when my back was turned, dealing with Potter."

Sirius blushed. "Okay . . .but it was the only time."

Severus snorted. "You have selective memory. _Kin-sa-dor_ was designed for a smaller opponent to defeat a larger one, just so you know."

Sirius seemed amused. "So you say."

"So I know." Severus countered. "Care to test me?"

"Umm . . ." Sirius looked back at Petunia, who was rolling her eyes.

"Men!" she sniffed. "You'll never be satisfied till you have a go at each other. Well, what are you waiting for, Siri? Settle it once and for all."

"That's real encouraging, dear."

"Humph! You get any more encouragement and you'll be building yourself a monument." His wife stated tartly. She loved him dearly, but sometimes her husband needed taking down a peg. Plus she sensed that the rivalry between the two had been long in the making and maybe a sparring session would stamp it out for good.

"I love you too, Tuney," drawled Sirius, then he asked, "You going to watch?"

"No thanks. Two men pounding each other holds no appeal," she said dryly. "I'm going to go and read a book on the porch. Have fun, dear. Severus, don't damage him permanently." With that, she sailed out of the salle.

"Don't damage him permanently!" Sirius sputtered indignantly. "What does she think I am, some kind of milksop?"

Severus allowed himself a slight smirk. "She saw what I did to her late husband, the fat hog. Thrashed him till he howled, the brute."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'm not Vernon Dursley, Snape!" Sirius stated, his dark eyes flashing. "I might not remember everything I was taught in the Academy, but I'll bet you ten Galleons I can still whip you."

"Only in your dreams, Black." He reached the edge of the mat and removed his boots.

Sirius eyed him askance. "What's with no shoes?"

"It's a safety procedure. So I don't cripple you," answered the master spy.

Sirius started to laugh. "Snape . . .you can't fool me . . .this is all an act, right? You can't really think you can beat me?"

"Take off your shoes, Black, and then meet me in the center. No magic, just plain sparring." Severus walked over into the center of the mats and waited.

"Be prepared to get knocked on your sorry arse, Snape!" Sirius blustered, then he closed with the other, fast and hard. He swung a roundhouse at Severus which should have broken his nose, but the Potions Master had melted away like a shadow and Sirius' fist connected with empty air.

Severus popped up right behind the other and swept a foot into Sirius' side, knocking him sideways. "You were saying, Black?"

Sirius scrambled to his feet. "How did you do that? You were . . .I didn't even see you move!"

"That is called the art of being a shadow. Come at me, Black."

Sirius charged, swinging two haymakers. He was sure he was going to get the smug Slytherin now. In school, Snape had never been much of a fighter.

But once more, Severus anticipated the move and stepped aside. As Sirius went by, he calmly reached out and flipped the Animagus over his shoulder. Sirius landed hard on the mats, gasping. "Again! What potion are you using?"

"Nothing. Save skill honed over years of practice. I did warn you, Black. I'm no longer the scrawny boy you teased." Severus said, his tone sharp.

Sirius rubbed his backside, grimacing. "You sure you're not using magic?"

Severus sneered. "I said no. I don't need magic to spar with you." Then he launched a high kick that Sirius deflected.

Around and around they went, and Sirius was starting to have a better respect for his opponent's skill, and his lethal swiftness. The former Auror was dripping with sweat and wondering how he could be so out of shape compared to his old rival, who in contrast barely had sweat beading on his forehead. He dodged a right cross, only to realize it was a feint and found himself flat on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. _Dammit, but now I'm glad Tuney didn't stay. He's beating the spit out of me, the greasy git!_ Sirius thought resentfully. And the worst part was how easily the other was doing so, it was as if he weren't even trying.

Frustrated, Sirius began attacking even more wildly, determined to wipe the smirk off Snape's face (even though he wasn't smirking). But the angrier he became, the easier it was for Severus to 'read' him and counter every move. "You're cheating! You know what I'm going to do before I do it!" He panted after being knocked down for the fourth—or was it fifth?—time.

Severus glided back to a ready position, saying calmly, "Black, didn't your instructors ever teach you to control yourself? You're telegraphing every move you make to me because you're letting your temper rule you. Stop doing it and maybe you won't find yourself on the floor so much. I have no need to cheat, you're fighting like a sixteen-year-old. I studied under a master of the art every day since leaving school, do you not understand?"

"I don't need a lecture from you, Snivellus!" cried Sirius.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Careful, brother-in-law. Don't forget, this is my house, and insulting me is the best way for you to get your arse kicked out of it." He dodged nimbly Sirius' kick to his knee.

Sirius lunged at him, tackling him to the mat. At last he had the slippery Slytherin down!

But Snape was not minded to stay there, and unlike when they were boys, Severus was both taller and stronger and not ready to concede a victory just yet. He brought up his knees and kicked out.

"Oof!" Sirius found himself flying through the air, to land on his back some three feet away.

Severus pounced, pinning the other to the mat and giving him a smart cuff to the back of the head. "Match, I believe. Your temper, Black, did half my work for me."

"Let me up!" growled Sirius.

Severus released him and began walking about the room to cool off. Sirius had managed to get in a few good ones and he knew he'd feel them tomorrow. He glanced sidelong at his former rival and noted the other sulkily copying him. Severus concealed a smirk. _You're regressing, Black, back to sixteen. You remind me of my sons. I warned you and you didn't listen._ He halted at the edge of the mat to pull on his boots. "You might want to take a hot shower so you don't stiffen," he said offhandedly.

Sirius made a noise like a grunt. He was still feeling humiliated at how easily Snape had defeated him. But then he asked, "Can you teach me that technique you were using?"

"No. _Kin-sa-dor_ can only be taught to those with fae blood, and you lack it."

"Huh? But that's ridiculous!"

Severus shrugged. "Those are the terms the fae set. Only those with blood ties to the Other World may learn the art. Every student swears an oath when they begin training and I cannot break that."

"But we're related!"

"Through a common wizard ancestor, not a fae one."

"Who cares?"

"They do. I will not be foresworn, Sirius."

Sirius flushed, mopping sweat from his brow. "You just want to get back at me for all the times James and I pranked you."

Severus snorted loudly. "If I wanted that, you'd still be on the mat, getting the spit knocked out of you. Just for the werewolf incident alone."

"You'll never let me forget that, will you?" Sirius said resentfully.

Severus' eyes flashed. "Forget how you nearly got me killed? No. Your so-called prank could have resulted in my death and that isn't something that should be forgotten, Black!"

"James saved your hide, and nothing happened to you."

"And that makes it acceptable? Intent matters as much as results, and you deliberately put me in danger, both of you! Quit making excuses. Albus might have bought it, but not me. You planned for me to get bit."

"To teach you a lesson about following us around! We never meant it to go that far. You should have minded your own business!"

"Ah, so it's all my fault, right? Why didn't you mind yours, Black, and leave Lupin in the Shack?"

"They had him chained like an animal."

"For his own protection. Dumbledore knew what a werewolf was capable of. And what would happen if Lupin ever bit someone."

"Remus would have never—"

"Idiot! Do you not understand a werewolf's nature? They are never sated and always a predator. They cannot control what they are, not without the Wolfsbane. And Lupin had none back then."

"You don't know what you're talking about. After he hunted he was fine!"

"You played with fire and you're lucky you never got burned. Don't blame me for your stupidity." Severus turned on his heel. "And never call me Snivellus, Black." Then he strode out of the salle.

Sirius glared after him. So much for bygones.

HSSSHSSS

If the boys noticed the tension between the two men, no one said anything during supper. Petunia could feel it and see it in her husband's eyes, she wondered what old quarrel had been reopened now. Sirius had a faintly guilty look in his eyes that she knew meant he had done something wrong. Severus was cooly polite, with none of the warmth he had shown earlier. Petunia sighed. Whatever the quarrel was, it should be mended by now. Or perhaps they needed a good smack with her skillet to knock some sense into their heads. Men!

Dudley told Sirius and Petunia about the runespoor. Petunia shuddered and Sirius looked impressed.

"How did you get a runespoor, Harry?" asked his godfather.

So Harry spent supper and beyond filling his relatives in on the tournament.

Dudley listened with half an ear, his mind was on the runespoor and the covetous egg it had. He imagined himself watching the egg hatch and playing with the baby snake. He smiled to himself. Then he began plotting on how to get the egg. The runespoor would never miss it, he had another one.

_Later that night:_

Dudley half-ran through the woods, clutching the precious egg to him beneath his shirt. It had taken forever for the adults to go to sleep, but at last they had and he was free to slip out of the manor, armed with a Muggle torch and a magical compass Sirius had given him for a Christmas present, and make his way back to the runespoor's lair. It had felt like longer than fifteen minutes in the dark, but he had finally reached the cave.

He had carefully shone the torch into the cave and then cautiously crept up and looked inside. The egg had been half-buried in some soft sandy loam and there was no sign of the runespoor. What luck! The snake was out hunting. So he quickly snatched the egg and now he was making for the manor at top speed. He planned to hide the egg inside the big closet in the room he'd been given.

He broke out of the trees and raced across the lawn, the egg feeling warm and heavy against his stomach. Almost there. He could see the dark shape of the house drawing nearer and nearer.

He was so focused upon his goal that he never even noticed the shadow slithering behind him, not until he heard a deadly hiss.

_"Thief!"_

Dudley started to turn, to drop the egg, his face frozen in horror, as the enraged runespoor struck, sinking its fangs into Dudley's leg. Dudley gave a strangled cry and collapsed, Ashterith's bite causing his throat to swell shut and his face turn purple in two minutes.

HSSSHSSS

Draco pointed triumphantly to Dudley's empty bed. "See? He's gone. I _knew_ he was up to something!"

Harry frowned. "Where would he go in the middle of the night?"

"Maybe down to the kitchens to stuff his face?" Draco surmised.

Just then Harry felt his amulet scorch his chest. "Ahhh!" he hissed, and pulled it out from under his pajama top. "Draco, get Dad!"

"Huh? Why?"

"Just do it. Something's happened to Dudley. My amulet . . ."

_:Hurry! Your foolish cousin has been bitten by a runespoor!:_ Smidgen sent frantically. _:He tried to steal the egg and now he pays the price. Harry, he's on the lawn, come quickly!:_

Harry raced outside, following both his amulet's and Smidgen's directions. Dudley was lying on the ground, the torch he'd used illuminating the ground, as he thrashed and gasped for air.

Harry heard the runespoor hiss and saw it dart over to the egg lying upon the ground and pick it up. "I'm sorry!" he called in Parseltongue before kneeling next to Dudley and examining his cousin.

Dudley's leg was swollen grotesquely and red and purple streaks radiated from his calf upwards. "Merlin have mercy!" Harry knew basic treatments for snake bite, but this was worse than he feared. He didn't know that runespoor venom worked so quickly.

He Summoned a sharp knife from the potions lab and prepared to cut into Dudley's leg to release some of the toxin when Severus Apparated onto the lawn, holding two vials of anti-venom and a large syringe.

"Dad! He was bit on the leg, I was just going to—"

"No time for that, Harry! Move out of my way, son." Snape ordered, unstoppering the vial and shoving the syringe in it.

Draco had gone and woken Petunia and Sirius as well, figuring if Dudley were going to die, they should at least be able to say goodbye. Based on what he had heard Smidgen say, he surmised that Harry's cousin wasn't long for this world. Runespoor venom was extremely potent.

Petunia and Sirius Apparated outside onto the lawn in their nightclothes. Petunia shrieked when she saw Dudley's bloated purple face. "My baby! My baby! Save him, please, Sev! My baby!" She wrenched herself from Sirius' arms and flung herself down across Dudley, sobbing hysterically.

"Petunia, move!" Severus shouted. "Sirius, get her off!"

Sirius, who had been standing there, shellshocked, went to Petunia and hauled her off Dudley. "Tuney, it's going to be okay. Once we get the anti-venom in him . . ."

"Siri, he's purple!" she wailed. "_Purple!"_

"Shhh . . .it'll be okay, Tuney. Severus will fix it." Sirius just continued talking to her, trying to relieve her terror.

"Harry, pull up his shirt," Severus snapped.

Harry was puzzled, but did as he was told. He glanced up and saw his aunt clinging to her husband and Draco standing a little ways away, his eyes wide.

Severus quickly knelt beside the gasping Dudley and plunged the large needle into the boy's chest, injecting the anti-venom in one quick shot. Dudley moaned and cried out.

Petunia screamed. "Snape, what are you doing? Are you mad! What are you doing to my poor boy!" She tried to wriggle out of Sirius' grasp, but he held her firmly.

Severus looked up and said, "Tuney, calm down. I'm saving his life. If the toxin reaches his heart, he's dead. So I injected the anti-venom straight into the tissues surrounding it, it's quicker that way and it'll prevent the toxin from getting to his heart. Now stop getting hysterical." He snapped his fingers and a vial of Calming Draught appeared. "Here, Sirius. Give her this, it should keep her nerves under control."

Harry gazed at his cousin and saw that Dudley's face seemed less swollen and the purple color was changing to a lavender shade. "Dad, look! It's working!"

Severus turned back to his patient and sighed in relief. He had been afraid he was too late, but it appeared he had neutralized the venom in time. Dudley's face was gradually regaining its normal proportions and his breathing was easier as his throat and bronchial passages opened up again. Soon he was drawing deep breaths and Severus tilted his head up and administered a second dose of the anti-venom, orally this time.

The lavender shade faded from Dudley's cheeks and he started to regain a more normal skin tone, though there were purplish black patches on his face that looked like bruises.

Petunia, after being coaxed into swallowing the potion, was now able to stop going spare and after a moment, she said, "He is going to be all right, isn't he, Severus?"

Snape nodded wearily. "Yes. His breathing and heart rate are back to normal," he ran a quick diagnostic. "The anti-venom will counteract the toxin in his blood."

"Then why is he still . . .knocked out?" sniffled the anxious mother.

"Petunia, that was a hell of a shock to his system, so I'm not surprised he's still out," Severus answered. "He'll probably be out the whole night. Why don't we take him into the den and put him to sleep on the couch?" Suiting action to words, he lifted the comatose Dudley into his arms and carried him into the den, where he made the boy comfortable on the sofa with plenty of blankets with a Warming Charm cast on them so he wouldn't get chilled.

"You don't need to take him to a hospital to be checked over?" Petunia asked nervously.

"No. The hospital would have done the same as I did, and am doing. When he wakes, he'll probably feel sick and woozy, he might vomit as well." He gestured, and a bucket appeared next to the couch. "He's lucky that Harry felt him through the amulet. I did as well, but Harry seems to have a stronger connection to him, maybe because they're blood related."

"Felt him? I don't know what you mean." Petunia sank into the recliner and rubbed her eyes.

Severus explained about the medallions the Heir and Heir Apparent wore, then said, "What I don't understand is why he was roaming about outside when he should have been sleeping."

"I don't understand that either. He was never like this at home." Petunia sniffled. "Where did that snake come from, anyhow?"

"The runespoor lives in the forest, and it normally won't attack unless threatened." Severus said. "Maybe Draco or Harry know the reason why Dudley was wandering about in the dark, looking for trouble."

Before Snape could open his mouth to call his two sons inside, Draco rushed in and cried, "Dad, you better come out there and do something! Before Harry hexes Sirius."

Severus was on his feet immediately. "Bloody hell! What now?"

He rushed outside and saw that Harry was standing defiantly in front of his godfather, his wand out. "I won't let you do it!"

"Harry, get out of my way, now! It has to be done, a snake that bites a human has to be destroyed. Do as I say and don't make me hex you." Sirius' face was dark with anger.

"No!" shouted Harry. "The runespoor is innocent—"

"Innocent! The damn snake _bit_ my son!"

"Because Dudley tried to steal its egg! I saw it, lying next to him when I found him. The runespoor attacked him because it wanted its egg back, not because it was mad or something!" Harry argued.

"A runespoor is a deadly creature, and allowing it to breed is asking for trouble, Harry. Best to let me deal with it and its egg now, before you have an infestation and you're overrun with the creatures."

"No! I brought it here and I promised it would be safe. You're not killing it, Sirius!" Harry had his wand out and was giving Sirius his best Snape glare. "It's not a monster, I talked to it, it has feelings and it doesn't deserve to die because it was defending its egg from a thief!"

"Harry, move before you make me do something I'll regret. Snakes lie, how could Dudley find its egg in the dark? It's a monster that has to be put down."

"You forget yourself, Black," Severus stated as he came out of the manor and joined Harry and Sirius. "This is my land and I decide what lives and dies upon it. Not you."

"Snape, you know I'm right. Any creature that attacks a human has to be killed."

"Dad, he wants to kill Azeal, Ashterith, and Azella because he bit Dudley! Dudley was stealing the snake's egg."

"Harry claims the snake told him so. Snape—"

"Dad, the runespoor didn't need to tell me, I _saw_ the egg lying by Dudley. The snake came and picked it up and then left. It was protecting its young! You can't kill it. I-I won't let you! I promised it would be able to live in peace here."

Severus turned and said sternly, "Black, lower your wand. There will be no hunting here tonight or any night. The snake was defending its territory and offspring from a thief."

"You're crazy, Snape! Defending a snake over your own nephew!" Sirius' wand came up, until it was pointed directly at Severus. "Get out of my way. If you won't see justice done, then I will!"

Severus drew as well. "Go back inside, Black, and take care of your wife and child. You're not looking for justice, you're looking for revenge. But you're not going to find it by killing a snake that was only looking after its own. Not on my watch. If Harry said the snake didn't attack for no reason, then it must be so. I trust my son."

Sirius remained where he was, stubbornly ignoring Severus' orders. "I think he's been brainwashed. If you won't kill it, I will, and you can use the skin and eggs for potion ingredients." He advanced upon Harry and Severus.

Severus glared down at the other man. "Black, this is your only warning. Put up your wand and go back inside before you end up on the wrong side of my wand. I'll duel you if I have to."

Sirius halted. "If that' s the way you want it, Snape . . ." He brought his wand up menacingly.

**Any guesses on whether Sirius will come to his senses or will he challenge Sev to a duel royale?**

**** for the incident Harry described please read Wizard's Luck and it's sequel Unlucky posted here**

**Did I not tell you the peace wouldn't last?**

**For anyone who is interested, I have a new story in my Broken Wings series called Worth Saving posted here and also a new chapter of Irresistible Chemistry.**


	41. Uneasy Truce

**41**

**Uneasy Truce**

Harry stared at Severus and Sirius, feeling a helpless sort of rage rising within him. He couldn't help but feel this was somehow his fault, but he couldn't have stood there and let Sirius hunt down the runespoor and kill it. It was _wrong_. Dudley had instigated the runespoor's attack by stealing its egg, and Sirius should have understood that. His eyes met those of his brother, who stood behind Sirius, looking equally troubled and fearful. Harry's jaw clenched. Neither of them wanted an open conflict between the two adult wizards.

_Smidgen, we have to stop this,_ Harry sent desperately to the fae cat, who was upon Draco's shoulder. _If we don't, something terrible could happen. But I also need to warn the runespoor, just in case. It's my fault Dudley stole the egg, I showed him the cave._

Smidgen replied, _:You are right, Harry. If those two get to fighting, it shall not end well at all. Their animosity runs too deep.:_

Draco, who could also hear Smidgen in his head, added, _Yeah, even though I wouldn't really mind Dad kicking cousin Siri's arse, he could lose control._ Draco knew how easy that would be for the volatile Potions Master. It had been easy for Harry and him to lose control when they started squabbling back over the summer, and they had only known each other three years and been more rivals than enemies. But how much worse was the bad blood between Sirius and Severus, who had nearly been killed by a werewolf by the Gryffindor? Then he had an idea. It was very suicidal, but it just might work. _Harry, go and find the runespoor, you're the only one who can speak to it. I'll make sure things don't blow up here._

Smidgen relayed his thoughts to his brother without being asked.

_Okay. Just . . .be careful._ Harry said, then began to back away. When he had gone about three feet beyond his father, he turned and sprinted for the forest.

Draco wished fleetingly that he could follow. Then he refocused his attention upon his father and cousin.

Sirius had his wand drawn and pointed at Severus, his face a mask of determination. "Just remember, Snape, you asked for this."

Severus' lip curled in a sneer. "If that isn't just like you, Black, to blame your poor decisions on me. You brought this on yourself." His ebony wand was pointed unerringly at his old nemesis.

Draco had only moments in which to act. He knew if spells started flying there was a real chance one or both might become seriously injured. He couldn't risk it. Besides, both of them were acting like . . .like children, he thought disgustedly. He recalled a spell Lucius had once shown him. He cast it as quickly as he dared. "_Aerius Solidarius!"_

Funnels of air suddenly dropped down upon the two combatants and separated them from one another by making a shell of hardened air about their bodies. The shell encased both wizards so tightly they couldn't move, not even to use their wands.

"What the bloody _hell_ . . .!" both men shouted.

Draco was amazed it had worked so well. He was simultaneously horrified that the spell had also managed to effect Severus as well as Sirius. _Oh, Merlin help me! But I just hexed my own father. I am so dead!_

"I can't move, Snape!" Sirius yelled.

"Nor can I," Severus replied, scowling. He had recognized the voice that had cast the spell though. "Draco, what the bloody blazes do you think you're doing? You dare to hex your own _father_?"

Draco gulped. As he had feared, Severus was livid. He could see the obsidian eyes flaring with temper and for one moment he trembled. But then he recalled that Severus was no Lucius, and any punishment Snape meted out would never be as bad as what he had suffered under his Death Eater sire. And he had not done this arbitrarily, but to stop a quarrel that might have grown out of hand. Gathering his courage, of which he had plenty, despite being as Slytherin as they came, he spoke.

"Sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to catch you, but now I'm glad I did."

"You _what?"_

Sirius whistled and thought, _Kid's got balls, to admit that. And he's Slytherin!_

"I can explain, sir." Draco said, then went on, his indecision vanishing with the conviction that welled within him. "But you kind of brought it on yourselves. I mean, you started this whole thing, Sirius, by not listening to reason, and Dad, you were going to finish it with violence, something you've told me and Harry a thousand times to never do. So I froze you both. I figured better I end up dead than you two kill each other."

"_Kill_ each other?' Sirius laughed humorlessly. "Kid, it never would have gone that far."

"No?" Draco bristled, irritated at his cousin's attitude. "You were all lunatic over the runespoor biting Dudley and Dad was defending Harry. _And_ you two detest each other for various reasons. Once you started fighting, which one of you would have had the restraint to back off? Both of you have terrible tempers, plus Dad's a combat master. Most any spell he casts could be lethal."

"And you don't think I could defend myself?" Sirius asked indignantly. "I used to be an Auror, kid."

"That was a long time ago. I've seen Dad fight, Sirius, and he would have kicked you a new arse." Draco said confidently. "And anyhow, the two of you are family, and you're not supposed to be fighting. Not over something this stupid."

"Stupid? My son getting bitten is _not_ stupid!" Sirius objected.

"No, but you going to hunt down the runespoor sure as hell is!" Draco flared. "This is Prince Manor land, and anything that lives on it is safe from persecution. It's like a preserve for magical creatures, don't you get it? Harry promised the runespoor it would be safe from harm, and you would have made him out to be a liar. Over something Dudley did that was wrong! He stole an egg, its only one, and that's why it attacked him. Harry said so, and my brother doesn't lie. But Dudley does, or at least that's the impression I got. The snake was perfectly within its rights to defend its baby, don't you see that? If someone had stolen _your_ child, how forgiving would _you_ be?"

Sirius frowned. "Not very."

"Exactly."

"But the runespoor is a dangerous creature, and if it attacked a person once, it'll do it again," Sirius argued, not willing to admit he'd been outmaneuvered by a mere fifteen-year-old.

"Like a certain werewolf of your acquaintance?" Severus growled.

"That was different, Snape! Remus was—"

"Also a dangerous creature, according to Ministry law," he pointed out chillingly. "Twice he attacked me, and yet you are willing to bend the rules for him and not for a snake that had far more cause to retaliate against a person. Where's the difference? Is the law only the law for some and not for others?"

"No, but . . .Dudley almost died . . .you can't just expect me to sit there and not do something . . ." Sirius began.

"The something you should be doing, cousin, is staying by your wife and son, helping him get better, not revenging yourself upon a snake," Draco said quietly.

"How dare you lecture me, you arrogant little snot? What would you know of it anyhow?"

"Plenty." Draco shot back, moving about so he faced the other wizard. He didn't know how much longer the spell would last, so he knew he had to get through to the other soon. "You know who you remind me of? Lucius." Sirius opened his mouth to shout a protest, but Draco snapped, "Just shut up and listen for a minute! Back in third year, I got myself clawed by a hippogriff named Buckbeak. It was my own fault, I was stupid, like Dudley, and thought it was just a dumb beast, so I didn't show it proper respect. And I paid for it. My father was informed and he came to the school to demand the hippogriff's execution. While I was in the Hospital Wing, hurting and afraid, he stayed away, and only Severus visited me and comforted me. Lucius only showed up after I was better and then only to demand revenge upon Buckbeak. Not for me. Revenge was more important to him, saving the family honor was more important to him, than caring for me. Yeah, he got his revenge, all right. But he should have been there for me. _I_ should have been first, not some animal."

"I couldn't have put it better myself," Petunia interjected. She had come out to see what on earth was keeping her husband, and so had caught the tail end of Draco's little speech. Now she glared angrily at both men. "You're a pair of fools, fighting like some silly schoolboys while my son struggles for his life! Men! Why is it when something goes wrong, your first instinct is to kill something? Life is more important than death. Sirius, Dudley needs you to be there for him when he wakes up, _I_ need you to be there with me while I stay by him, so I don't go to pieces, and where are you? Out here, picking a bloody fight with Severus! If Draco hadn't done some magic on you, I'd have whacked the pair of you over the head with my skillet. Maybe then you'd see sense! _He's_ the only one of you who seems to have any." She pointed at Draco.

Sirius looked ashamed. "Tuney, I just . . .reacted, it's not that I don't care about Dudley . . .you know I do . . ."

Petunia sniffed. "You have a strange way of showing it." Then she whirled upon Severus. "And you! I thought you came out here to break up a quarrel, not get involved in one, Severus! What if Dudley took a turn for the worse and I needed you to give him potions or . . .or whatever? He might have died while you and my husband were dueling! And then what?"

"Petunia, I was defending _my_ son from your irrational husband." Severus pointed out, flushing.

"Oh? And where is Harry now? I don't see him anywhere about."

Severus felt a frisson of fear crawl down his spine. "He's not back at the house?"

"No. That's why I came out here. To see what the blazes was keeping all of you," Petunia returned crisply.

"Draco, do you know where Harry is?" Severus asked sharply.

"Yes, sir. He went to find the runespoor."

Severus swore under his breath. Of course he had. Harry would never let an innocent creature suffer over a mistake.

"Good heavens! He's out there alone in the dark?" Petunia threw up her hands. "Why didn't you stop him, Draco?"

"Me? When Harry gets an idea in his head, it's sort of like trying to move a mountain with your bare hands."

"Humph! Like someone else I could name. _Two_ someones," she amended, still glaring at the two wizards. "All this trouble over a snake, when it's your children you ought to be concerned about. All I want is for Dudders to get well, I could give a damn what happens to the snake. And now I've got Harry to worry about too!"

By now both men looked chastened and worried.

"They're right," Severus admitted.

"Tell me about it," Sirius grimaced. "Truce, Severus?"

Snape nodded. "Truce, Sirius. I may not like you, but you're family now. Draco, cancel the spell. I need to go and find your brother. And tomorrow morning, we are going to have a very long talk, young man." He said ominously.

Draco flinched. "Yes, sir." He waved his wand. "_Finite._"

The binding columns of air vanished, and both Sirius and Severus were freed. Severus immediately concentrated, grasping his amulet, and headed off towards the woods, guided by his mysterious connection to the land and its heir.

Sirius, Draco, and Petunia headed into the manor, Sirius murmuring apologies to his wife, who still looked as though she wanted a go at him with the skillet.

" . . .really sorry, Tuney, I just lost my head . . .seeing him half-dead like that . . . I'm supposed to protect him and I couldn't . . ."

" . . .Sirius, how could you know he would do something so foolish . . .I don't understand it myself . . .but I do know that he needs his father there when he wakes up . . .I can't deal with this alone . . .it's too much . . ." she trailed off into a choked sob.

Sirius put his arm about her and hugged her.

Draco blushed and looked away. He could never recall Lucius ever being so openly affectionate with Narcissa. _Cold fishes, the pair of them, _he thought scornfully, before leaving the anxious parents to sit beside Dudley and retreating to his room. He supposed he had better get some sleep, because tomorrow wasn't going to be pleasant. _But I did the right thing . . .I think. Except now Dad's going to kick my arse. _Groaning, he threw himself on his bed. _I think Harry's rubbing off on me. I can't believe I hexed my own father! Merlin, what the hell was I thinking?_

SSHSDMSS

Harry raced through the orchard and into the forest, his sense of the land allowing him to run unerringly through the trees as if it were brightest day. As before, he could sense the runespoor in his head, and he allowed its presence to draw him onward. He was a mass of conflicting emotions, fear for the runespoor, anger at Sirius' pure stubbornness and also Dudley's stupidity in stealing the egg, frustration that his idea of getting together with Petunia and Sirius and Dudley had gone so terribly wrong, and sorrow that he had somehow made the rift between Sirius and Severus worse by quarreling with his godfather.

Panting, he crossed the small stream and made his way up the trail to the runespoor's cave. In spite of the dark, he could sense the snake was within its lair, hissing and crooning to the fiery egg, which luckily had been undamaged and was soon to hatch. Another egg had just been laid, Harry could hear the runespoor's heads discussing what a marvelous thing it was to have laid two eggs in the same season.

Harry would have smiled if the situation hadn't been so grave. He approached the cave, halting several feet from the entrance. Now was not the time to draw too close to the volatile snake. He called softly in Parseltongue, "Azeal, Azella, Ashterith, can you hear me? It's Harry the Speaker. I've come to see how you are."

There came no reply for a few moments, just the rustling of scales across stone. Then Azeal called back, "We hear you, S-s-s-peaker. We are unharmed."

"And your egg?"

"It is fine!" hissed Ashterith. "No thanks to that lump of s-s-uet who tried to s-s-teal it. What have you to s-s-say to that?"

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized. "Dudley was so stupid . . .he's my cousin . . .I never thought he would try anything like that. I'm really sorry."

"You promised we would be s-s-afe here!" Azella snapped angrily. "I don't want my eggs to be in danger from s-s-smelly human poachers!"

"I know. I promise, it won't ever happen again. My cousin didn't understand that you're . . .well, you're not a dumb beast . . .that you can talk and think."

"Of course we're not dumb! The very idea!" Azeal spat. "Where does your cousin come from, that he does not know about runespoor intelligence?"

"Umm . . .he's a Muggle . . .an ordinary human." Harry explained.

"A mundane?" Ashterith sounded scornful. "No wonder he dared to become a thief! I daresay he has learned his les-s-son now."

"He has."

"Is he dead?" asked Azella, sounding mildly curious, though not regretful at all.

"No. But he won't be coming after you ever again. Listen, I came here to warn you, you're in danger from my cousin's . . .father. He's angry that you bit his son and he wants . . .to hunt you down. So you have to . . .get away from here."

"Where s-s-hall we go?" cried Azella. "We have two eggs to look after!"

"I think I know a place. I can take you there if you want." Harry offered.

"No!" argued Ashterith. "I like it here, it is the perfect place to raise our young. Why s-s-hould we be driven from our new home like cattle? If this s-s-ire comes to us, I s-s-hall s-s-how him how quickly a runespoor bites!"

"No!" Harry cried in alarm. "That will only make things worse."

"We are not permitted to defend ourselves, or our offspring?" demanded Azeal flatly.

"No, you are, but . . .look, sometimes wizards think that if a snake bites a human, even if they deserve it, then they're dangerous and need to be killed. It's wrong, but that's what some people think. So it wouldn't do you any good to stay here and fight. Please, just let me help you. I don't want you to die."

"Peace! We s-s-hall think on your words." Azeal said.

Then there was silence, and Harry sat down beside the cave with his knees drawn up and prayed the runespoor would see reason. The last thing he wanted was open war between the snake and his godfather. He hoped Sirius had been convinced that he shouldn't pursue his revenge by Draco and Severus and was not roaming the forest searching for the runespoor.

The minutes ticked by endlessly, and the moon had just started its descent when he felt more than heard another presence come into the clearing. His heart in his throat, he looked about, expecting to see Sirius.

Instead, he saw Severus emerge from the trees and approach him. "I figured I would find you here, son."

"Dad!" Harry exclaimed, relief coloring his tone. "Where's Sirius?"

"Back at the manor, sitting vigil with Petunia. Your brother and Tuney convinced him to start using his head for something other than a battering ram." Severus said dryly, coming to sit down beside his son. "He didn't follow me."

Harry was relieved. He quickly hissed a message in Parseltongue for the runespoor. "I'm glad you got him to see reason. I've never seen him like that before, Dad. It was like . . .like he went mad . . .he totally freaked out."

"That can happen sometimes, Harry, especially when your child is in danger or hurt and all you want to do is protect them. It's an instinctive reaction with fathers. Clearly your godfather cares very much about Dudley. Having him nearly die in front of his eyes really scared Black."

"It really scared me too," his son admitted quietly. "I really messed up showing Dudley the runespoor. I didn't think he'd ever try and hurt it or anything, he seemed. . . well . . .scared of it when he first saw it. How could he be such a dunderhead?"

Severus chuckled at Harry's use of his favorite word and the tone. "I don't think Dudley stopped to consider the consequences when he stole the egg. Much like his stepfather did at that age. Your cousin is reckless and willful, but I believe this will teach him the error of his ways, if anything can."

"Is he going to be in trouble when he wakes up?"

"That's up to his parents, not me." Severus replied. "I have no authority to discipline him."

Harry just nodded. "I'm beginning to think it was a big mistake inviting them here. I mean, look what almost happened. Dudley nearly dies and I almost ended up hexing Sirius. I didn't want to hex him, but he kept pushing me and I guess I reacted before I thought things through." His son shook his head in disgust.

"I was guilty of that as well, I'm afraid. I am so used to thinking of Black—Sirius—as a rival that my first instinct was to draw a wand and challenge him," Severus admitted ruefully. "I really should have known better. It was fortunate that your brother was there to talk sense into us . . .even if he did hex us both."

Harry almost passed out. "He **WHAT?** Draco hexed you? Why?"

"He claimed it was accidentally, but then said it was probably a good thing because he didn't trust me to keep my temper," answered his father, his lips pursed tight in disapproval. "He may have been right. At that moment, I was angry enough to turn Sirius inside out. However, Draco and I will be having a long discussion about his behavior tomorrow morning."

Harry winced. He sure was glad it wasn't him on the receiving end of Severus' displeasure this time. But he did feel sorry for his brother, who had been trying to do what he thought best.

Severus put an arm about him. "You've had a rough day, Phoenix. And I didn't make it any easier on you. I shouldn't have goaded Sirius this afternoon while I was sparring with him."

"You sparred with him?" Harry looked up, astonished. "Did you win?"

"All too easily, I'm afraid. I quite trampled his pride into the dirt. Much the same way he did to me once upon a time at Hogwarts. I knew I was a better fighter than he was and I made sure he knew it. While it was satisfying at the time, it did little to promote peace between us. It was a petty sort of revenge, unworthy of the Lord of Prince Manor."

Harry blinked, startled. It was rare for Severus to admit he was wrong, especially about his old rival. Yet here he was, acknowledging his fault to Harry, whom he knew loved Sirius like an uncle. "Sirius was wrong too, Dad."

"We both were, as your aunt so emphatically reminded us. Now there is one woman I do not want to have angry at me. She has nearly as bad a temper as Lily," Severus said ruefully.

"Tell me about it," Harry grinned. "Dad, is the runespoor safe now?"

"Yes. But if you need confirmation, you ought to ask your godfather." Severus shifted upon the cold ground. "Harry, I will be honest with you. Sirius and I may never truly get along, the best you can hope for is an uneasy truce between us. There is much between us that can never be undone and may never be atoned for. The only thing I can promise you is to not allow my temper to rule me and to lift a wand or hand against him in anger. And I shall attempt to be civil."

"Okay." Harry murmured, wondering if Sirius would swear the same.

"However," Severus continued. "I think it best if we only see each other infrequently, such as during the holidays, and then only for a few days at best."

Harry agreed, knowing Severus was right. He could not expect the two to just put aside years of anger and bitterness simply because Sirius had now married into the family and Harry wished them to be family. Besides, many families had problems like this with their relatives. Harry suspected Petunia and Lily might have fought as well when they were together. "Will Dudley be all right, Dad? I know he's the biggest prat on the earth, but I don't want him to die."

"He won't. I arrested the venom in time." Severus reassured him. He rose to his feet in one graceful lunge. "Still, there may be complications, and I should be there, just in case. It's time to head home." He turned and headed out of the clearing.

Harry hurried to keep pace with him. "Dad, how come I can feel certain things when I touch the land? Like I knew where the runespoor was just by . . .feeling it in my head?"

"That is another legacy of Prince Manor, Harry. One of the more useful ones. The land is a trust, passed on from one Heir to the next. But the full story will have to wait until tomorrow. You need sleep and I need a Calming Draught. Come."

When they arrived back at the manor, they found Petunia sitting on the sofa nearest Dudley, who was still knocked out, and Sirius dozing beside the fire in his dog form. Padfoot sat up immediately as the two Snapes entered the house, then seeing it was only Severus and Harry, wagged his tail and then blurred into Sirius.

"Harry, you're all right!" Sirius said in relief. "When you ran off like that . . .I was afraid the snake would bite you too. Don't ever scare me like that again!" he scolded. Then he halted. "Err . . .sorry, it's not my place to lecture you."

"It's okay, Uncle Sirius." Harry said, trying out the title for the first time. "I'm sorry I scared you, but I'm a Parselmouth, remember? Most snakes love Parselmouths and won't ever harm one. The runespoor trusts me."

Sirius looked skeptical, but then nodded slowly. "You would know best, wouldn't you? Do you know where you got that ability?"

"No."

Severus spoke up. "It is a fae trait. Many descendants of the fae have unusual talents, speaking to snakes is one of them. Most fae can speak a few animal tongues. Unlike humans, they respect the animals who share their world."

Sirius allowed the barb to pass. "It certainly can come in handy." He coughed, then said, "Harry, I was out of line before, when I threatened to kill your snake friend. I can see that now that I'm calmed down. I won't lift a wand against it. I give you my word." He held out a hand to shake.

Harry clasped it solemnly, so relieved he nearly cried. The last thing he wanted was to make an enemy of Sirius. "Thanks."

"All right, now that's settled, you can go to bed," Severus ordered gruffly, shooing his too-smart son towards the hallway. "Good night, Harry."

"Night, Dad." Harry called over his shoulder. He wasn't tired, however. All he wanted was to be alone and to think about everything that had occurred. It had been quite an evening.

He quickly undressed and then crawled into bed, from the rug on the foot of the bed, Cafall woke and whined a greeting, then fell asleep again after climbing on the bed and lying on Harry's legs. Harry was grateful for the company and the warmth, but not for almost asphyxiating from Cafall's awful breath and the cut off circulation to his feet. He shifted a fraction and then supposed you couldn't have everything. That was something he had learned long ago. But Dudley never had. And thus the debacle with the snake.

Perhaps Sirius could manage to teach his impulsive cousin that important lesson. Harry drifted off to sleep still pondering why Dudley had stolen the egg. He could have never raised a runespoor, they required careful and experienced handling, and no Muggle could ever do so successfully.

In the den, all three adults kept vigil over Dudley. The boy snored loudly, unaware of the presence of his family, worrying and hovering about him. Severus said that was a good sign, a deep sleep was needed to heal. He also apologized to both Sirius and Petunia, then ran another diagnostic upon Dudley before going into his lab to brew more potions. The day had started out well, but quickly degenerated into chaos. He hoped that were not a sign of things to come.

**Hope you all enjoyed this one. Sirius and Petunia will be vacating Prince Manor next chapter. Oh and Dudley too, after Sirius asks Severus for some advice. **

**What do you think Sev will do to Draco? **

**Or Sirius and Petunia to Dudley?**


	42. Earth Bond

**42**

**Earth Bond**

When Severus returned from his lab with the extra Pain Relievers and Anti-Nausea drafts he thought he might need, as well as Calming Drafts for Dudley's stressed parents, he found that Sirius had fallen asleep. Petunia, however, was awake, staring worriedly at her only child. Severus approached on cat's feet, and laid a hand upon her shoulder.

She jumped and nearly fell out of her chair. "Oh! Severus, you scared me!"

"I apologize. I forget, not everyone has keen hearing like I do. It comes from the fae blood within me." Severus explained. "You look exhausted, Tuney. You should rest."

She shook her head wearily. "I can't. I tried but . . .I keep seeing Dudley's face in my mind, all purple, and I just . . .can't sleep. I have to look, to make sure he's all right . . .he's the best thing Vernon ever gave me and I just couldn't bear it if I lost him, Sev. You understand, don't you?"

"Yes. I understand perfectly. Many's the time I stayed beside Harry's bed . . .or Draco's, nursing them through some injury or curse." Severus said compassionately. "But trust me when I say Dudley is going to be fine once he wakes up. A little nauseous maybe and achy, but otherwise well enough for you to hug him to death and then scold him into next week."

Petunia heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Thank God. But he's going to get more than a scolding this time, Severus. He—I still can't figure out why he wanted to steal that snake's egg. It's a magical snake, Lord knows what it could do! I would have never permitted it in my house."

"Hmm . . .I don't think he planned on asking you," Severus remarked. "As for why, I'd say he probably wanted a pet."

"A pet? Heavens, a pet is a cat or a dog, not . . .not some venomous three-headed cobra!" Petunia cried. "Boys! They never think twice about what is possible, only about what they want."

Severus' mouth twitched. "Sometimes that's true. I think part of Dudley's problem is that he's been spoiled for years, so he thinks that anything he wants, he can have."

"You're right. I permitted Vernon to do so and now I have a major problem on my hands. I've tried to set new rules for him to follow, and at home he's done well, but over here . . ."

"He falls prey to temptation," Severus finished. "That's only natural. But you need to make certain he understands his mistake and won't repeat it."

"Oh, he won't. My spoon and I shall make certain of that. I taught him that stealing is wrong, Severus, when he was little. I wasn't that big of a failure, I did try and instill some values into him and Harry too. Only on Harry the lessons stuck." Petunia stated, her face grim.

"He needs a good male role model," Severus said. He glanced over at Sirius. "I'm not entirely sure Sirius is appropriate, though that's really none of my business."

"Sirius has changed from when you knew him in school, Sev. He was a perfect gentleman to me and Dudley when we were dumped upon him by that old loony Bumbledork or whatever his name is. He was the first man since you that treated me as if I had a mind and a good head on my shoulders. He actually listened to me and treated me with respect. You know what Vernon gave me, Sev. Sirius knows too now. He's a good man, Severus. A bit of an idiot on occasion, and sometimes he acts without thinking, but he truly loves me and Dudley."

"Do you love him?"

"I do, and believe me, I never thought I would say that. Or agree to marriage again after Vernon bullied me. But Sirius is . . .he makes me laugh, and he can be very sweet when he wishes. He would never raise a hand to me, Severus. Dudley respects him also. It took a while for me to warm up to him, it didn't happen overnight, but one day I looked at him and I said to myself, _You love him, Petunia. Admit it._ And somehow his being a wizard didn't matter at all then. Nor does my being a Muggle—is that what you call us?"

"Yes. I am happy for you, Tuney. You deserve a second chance at a good life."

"Thank you, and the same to you. I just wish my son didn't contrive to make my hair white."

Severus chuckled. "Mine do that on a daily basis."

"Mercy, Severus! How do you handle it?"

"One day at a time," drawled Severus. "And I lace my tea with Calming Draughts some days." He held out a vial. "Want one?"

"Maybe later, thank you." She waved it away. "You know, this is the first time he's ever been hurt so badly. I didn't . . .I didn't know how to react, I was so terrified."

"It's every parent's nightmare, to have a child near death," Severus said.

"You can say that again, Snape." Sirius yawned and sat up. "Must have dozed off. Sorry, love." He flashed Petunia an apologetic grin. "What did I miss?"

"Severus commiserating with me about how our sons drive us insane." Petunia told him. "And how we need to come up with a suitable punishment for Dudley besides a few good licks with my spoon."

Sirius nodded. "A suitable punishment? Hell, I'm not much good at giving punishments, I'm better at avoiding them." He looked over at Severus. "You're a disciplinarian, Snape. What do you suggest?"

Severus almost choked to death on his tea. Black was asking _him_ for advice? "I . . .well, it would depend on what method you think would be most effective. I find that Draco and Harry hate privileges being revokedand being made to do chores everyday all over the manor. They hate it worse than a spanking, not that they've received many from me. Only once or twice, and I did it mainly to emphasize how childish they were being, not to truly hurt them. Despite what you may think, Black, I don't enjoy beating my children or students."

"Hey, calm down," Sirius held up a hand. "I never said that you . . .well, I may have thought it once, but . . .Tuney told me how you thrashed Vernon for hurting her and managed to get Dudley to behave without being too harsh, so I . . .guess I was mistaken."

"I must be dreaming," Severus muttered.

Sirius smirked. "Pleasant dreams, eh, Sn—Severus? From what Tuney's told me, Vernon never really allowed her to discipline Dudley. Which is why I had such a hard time with him in the beginning, his attitude towards his mother was atrocious. Matter of fact, I did tan his arse once over it. Then his attitude towards Petunia and even me improved a lot."

"Sometimes once is all it takes. It did with Draco. However, now I've discovered that as they get older, it's privileges that really matter to them. When you take things like flying or, in Dudley's case, TV and video games, away from them it really hurts, especially over a long period of time. Last summer, I punished both boys by forbidding them their brooms for two months and doing the most tedious and time consuming chores around here, such as laundry."

"Two months?" Sirius' jaw dropped.

"Laundry?" Petunia looked puzzled. "But with a washing machine, laundry takes only an hour and a half to do."

Severus gave them a wicked grin. "Not if you do the laundry with an old fashioned wringer washer and hang the clothes on a line to dry."

"Ohh . . .now I see," Petunia smiled. "Then that would be a terrible punishment, especially for boys who are active."

"Exactly."

"But didn't they whine and complain about it nonstop?" asked Sirius.

"Of course they did. But they learned that the more they complained, the more chores I added, until they stopped complaining and just took their punishments silently."

"Dudley loves to complain." Sirius sighed.

"Don't let him then." Severus said bluntly. "Draco does as well, but he knows what it'll get him with me. So he's learned to shut his mouth."

"I see." Sirius seemed to be pondering something. "Tuney, are you sure we should give him an additional punishment after what happened? I mean—he almost died, isn't that enough?"

Severus laughed softly. "For a normal teenager, yes. But our children aren't normal teenagers. Harry has had near death experiences for years and it hadn't curbed his tendency to rush in where angels fear to tread. Although, I think I've finally nipped that streak, when I followed him about everywhere for a week last term."

At Sirius' boggled expression, he told the tale of Harry and the green beer incident.

"That was clever, Sev," Petunia said afterwards. Then she turned to her husband. "While I'd normally agree with you, Siri, I think Dudley needs a sharp lesson in considering others, especially animals, and stealing. I didn't raise my boy to be a thief. He also owes an apology to Harry and Draco for trying to harm an endangered species. Perhaps if I do this now, he'll learn from it, and not turn out a selfish inconsiderate beast like his father."

"All right then, Pet. He's your son and you are right." Sirius conceded. "This parenting stuff is harder than I thought."

"And it doesn't get any easier as they get older. They just keep coming up with more problems for you to solve." Severus said.

"Oh, dear sweet Merlin!" groaned Sirius. "You mean you don't know all the answers yet, Severus?"

"Hardly. I learn something new everyday about my sons. It's the most aggravating and yet rewarding thing, Black. I am, by no means, a perfect parent. One thing I _do_ know, however, is that you need to find your own balance regarding discipline. Neither too harsh or too permissive. And that is difficult, because they test you. Sometimes until you snap."

"What do you do then?"

"I walk away until I regain control over my temper and then I return when I'm sure I can discipline rationally. If there is one lesson I took from my miserable childhood it's never punish a child in anger, because you go too far."

"The way Vernon did with Harry," Petunia said sadly.

"Yes," Severus said tightly. Then he added silently, _and my father did with me._ Growing uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had suddenly taken, and having no more information to share, Severus decided to let the two parents discuss their child's punishment alone. He rose to his feet. "Well, it's almost dawn, and I am going to try and get a few hours of sleep. I shall see you later."

"Good night then, Severus." Petunia said. "Or maybe I should say good morning."

"I'll just wish you a good sleep," Sirius told him. "And . . .thanks for the advice."

Severus nodded. "Don't mention it. Any good parent would have told you it." Then he departed down the hall to his room, leaving Sirius and Petunia to finish deciding consequences for their wayward child.

HSSSHSDMSS

Harry awoke to voices echoing to him from the den, and he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He could just make out Petunia's voice scolding Dudley, and Dudley protesting.

"But Mum, it really wasn't stealing—"

"Dudley Alvin Dursley, do not lie to me! Were you intending to bring the egg back? No. Then it was stealing. And you know better than that, young man!"

"It was just a snake, Mum!"

"A highly intelligent snake that was very upset you stole her egg," Sirius interjected. "What you did was wrong, son. Stealing from a person or an animal, especially a magical one, is a terrible thing. What were you planning to do with the egg?"

"Hatch it and keep the baby," Dudley said defensively. "I wanted a three-headed snake. Harry has a pet, why can't I?"

"Harry has a dog, not some monstrous snake!" Petunia corrected. "I will not have such a creature in my house, Dudley. You know how I feel about reptiles."

"And a runespoor wouldn't have listened to you, Dudley. It's a magical snake, you would have never been able to bond with it."

"But _you_ could have talked to it, Siri." Dudley said sulkily.

Harry sniggered into his hand. Dudley was in way over his head here.

"No, I couldn't have. I'm not a Parselmouth like Harry. Even so, bringing home a dangerous creature like that is very irresponsible and not a smart thing to do. If you wanted a pet you should have asked us first and we could have discussed it. Doing what you did shows us that you aren't mature enough for a pet, any pet." Sirius said firmly.

"I am too! I'm fifteen!"

"And you're whining like a five year old. I'm very disappointed in you. You nearly got yourself killed by acting like a-a reckless idiot, and now you expect me to reward you for it? Sorry, but that won't work with me."

"Not only that but you also disgraced us in front of your uncle and cousins," Petunia put in.

Harry listened, wide-eyed, as Petunia told Dudley how he would be punished once they returned home—no video games, no TV, only a bunch of housework, including doing the laundry and weeding the garden for two weeks. Plus a smacking with Petunia's spoon.

_Ha! About time they laid down the law to him. Sounds like they borrowed a few pages from Dad's discipline book, or my name's not Harry Snape._

Dudley whined and protested, until Sirius threatened to make the two weeks three weeks, and wallop him right then and there.

_That_ shut his cousin up, except for the token, "You're so unfair, Mum! Nobody else I know of gets punished like this."

"Harry and Draco do. Next time don't steal anything and you won't have to worry about getting in trouble. Or almost dying. Now, you owe your Uncle Sev and cousins an apology as well, for not respecting their wishes and creating a major problem for them both. Not another word, young man! After breakfast, we're going home. We've caused enough trouble for Severus and his family."

Harry couldn't help but feel relieved at Petunia's decision. The whole visit had been a fiasco, and all he wanted was for his relatives to leave so things at the manor could go back to normal. Because of Dudley, Draco was now in trouble, or at least Harry thought Draco was in trouble for hexing Severus last night. _Unless Dad changed his mind . . ._Harry sighed and turned over and fell back asleep.

The next time he woke, it was to the smell of frying bacon and pancakes, and Draco was shaking his shoulder. "Wake up, Harry! Your aunt's making breakfast and you'd better hurry up or else your cousin's going to eat it all."

Harry yawned and sat up. "Oh, okay. Draco, did Dad talk to you yet?"

His brother shook his head. "No. I wish he would just yell at me or whatever and get it over with. It's making me feel sick to my stomach."

"Maybe he's waiting until Aunt Tuney and Uncle Siri leave," Harry suggested, rising from the bed.

"Maybe. I just want it over with. I don't even care what he does to me."

Harry cast him a sympathetic glance, then followed Draco into the kitchen, drooling over the delicious aroma permeating the air.

After breakfast, which Draco merely picked at, Dudley apologized to all of them for his behavior and thanked Severus for saving his life. Then the Black family bid farewell to the Snapes and said they would see them around Christmas. Severus went and escorted them through the boundary, parting the Endless Mist so they could return to the outside world.

"Good riddance!" Draco said feelingly. "Harry, if I never see your cousin again, it'll be too soon. He's a worse brat than I ever was, and that's saying something."

"But maybe he finally learned his lesson," Harry said hopefully, then he told Draco about what he had overheard this morning.

"Not that I'm gloating or anything, but—I'd say he has it coming. If getting bitten by a runespoor and that punishment doesn't change him then nothing will." Draco said sagely. "Wonder where Dad is? How long does it take to just part the Mist and say goodbye?"

"You that eager for him to hand you your arse?" queried his brother.

"No, but I'd rather have it done and over with." Draco replied. And he was also secretly hoping that Severus would have cooled down by now and go easy on him.

"Oh. I know what you mean," Harry said.

Just then, Severus' footsteps sounded on the walk and the door opened. Severus carried a fancy gold envelope in one hand and looked rather surprised.

Draco straightened up and bit his lower lip, eyeing Severus uneasily. His father didn't _look_ angry, but looks could be deceiving. He could recall Lucius wearing a stony face and still beating the crap out of him for some infraction. Not that Severus would ever do that, but still . . .

Snape caught the look and said quietly, "I have some interesting news to share with you both, but first I need to have a talk with Draco. In my study, son."

"Yes, sir." Draco rose and preceded his father into the study. He sat in one of the two chairs in the front of the desk and waited for the expected arse-kicking to commence.

Severus sat down behind the desk and folded his hands atop it. He looked at his blond-haired son calmly.

Draco wasn't sure what to make of that. But he faced his father with his head up and determined to endure whatever came his way soundlessly.

A minute went by and Severus said nothing.

Draco fidgeted then went still when Severus cleared his throat.

"Last night I was angry enough to have taken your broom from you and grounded you for two weeks for what you did. However, now that I've thought about it, I realize that you did the right thing. I was on the verge of losing my temper and hexing Black severely. Sirius and I . . .we have never gotten along, we're like oil and water. There are things in my past that I . . .have never really forgotten or forgiven concerning him and all of that came out last night. If you hadn't acted when you did, Draco, there might have been bloodshed."

"But I didn't _mean_ to hex you, Dad. I only was intending to hex Sirius. I don't know what went wrong."

"As you said, it was for the best. You couldn't trust me right then, so you did the prudent thing and bound us both. You acted quickly and with forethought, son, and I'm proud of you. I may not have liked the method, but I can't argue with the results."

Draco gaped. "Then . . .I'm not in trouble, sir? You're not going to . . .kick my arse?"

Severus' mouth twitched into a half-smile. "No, for you don't deserve it. I thank you for making a bad situation turn out better. Sirius and I both needed a good dousing with freezing water, like two stupid dogs. This once, Draco Michael, you have become the teacher and I the student."

"You forgive me then?" Draco asked, hardly daring to believe he had heard his father humble himself so.

"Did I not just say so?" Severus said a bit testily. "Or must I wear a placard about my neck proclaiming it?"

Draco chuckled. "That'd be a first."

Severus snorted. "Don't press your luck. The only punishment you've earned, Draco, is to teach me that spell you used. It's not one I'm familiar with, and it looks useful to know, especially for separating mortal enemies or hotheaded teenagers dueling in the hallway at Hogwarts. Would you say that's a fair consequence?"

Draco smiled. "Yes, sir! Uh, when do you want to learn it?"

"Whenever you are ready to teach it. There is no rush." Severus rose and beckoned his son to accompany him back to the den. "Come, I have news for you and Harry. A shimmerling arrived as I was returning to the house with a letter from Queen Titania."

"A letter from the queen!" Draco exclaimed. "What does it say?"

"I do not know. But I intend to read it right now. It is addressed to all of us."

Once they were back in the den, Harry gave Draco a _you-okay_ look. Draco nodded and gave him a thumbs-up, sitting down on the couch next to him. Harry's eyes widened. _Dad let him off? Holy bloody blue blazes! I wonder if he's starting to mellow? Nah, he's not old enough for that. Maybe he realized Draco did the right thing after all._

Severus told Harry about the letter, then broke the violet seal upon the gold envelope and slid out a piece of delicate sparkling fae paper. Written with golden ink in royal calligraphy was the following missive:

"_Greetings to Severus Snape, Lord Prince, Harry Snape, Heir Apparent, and Lord Draco Malfoy:_

_You are invited to attend a Royal Revel at the Seelie Court, in the Moonsong Hall, at the royal palace. There will be dancing, feasting, and other entertainments. This is to commemorate Queen Titania's triumph over her longtime foe, Tom Marvolo Riddle, whose heinous crimes against the royal family went unpunished for decades, until now. She also wishes to acknowledge you and your family's part in her triumph and reward you accordingly. _

_Please join us three days hence, at the hour of seven o'clock in the evening. A shimmerling will be sent with appropriate feast wear for you, a gift from Her Majesty, and shall remain to guide you to the palace. _

_Best wishes and may the Moon and Stars bless you,_

_Balin, Prince of the Seelie_

_Royal Scribe for Titania Regina_

Severus' eyebrows went up. "Well, I had been expecting an invitation from the queen eventually, but not one in which we were honored in any way. That is almost unheard of. You must be on your very best behavior, boys. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," they replied, almost in the same breath.

Harry whistled in disbelief. "Wow! That's just . . .incredible!"

Draco nodded. "I've wanted to see more of the palace and meet some more fae. Last time we were there, I was too injured to do much. But at least this is a banquet, so I don't have to worry about any Unseelie attacking me. It should be a blast, if half the stories about the fae parties I've heard are true."

"You will not be drinking any fae liquor, Draco." Severus ordered. "Those cordials are too potent for your system to handle."

Draco groaned. "Not even a sip?"

"No. Ask Harry about summerdew, he'll tell you what 'just a sip' turns into."

Smidgen blinked into the den. _:Severus, Harry, Draco! The queen has summoned me to a revel! Did you receive her invitation too?:_

"We did indeed, Smidgen."

"You're going too?" Harry said. "Good. Then we'll know someone else there besides Sarai. Sarai will be there, won't she?"

_:Of course. The queen goes nowhere without her Blades, not the least her Captain.:_

"For which I am most grateful," Severus said.

"I'll just bet you are," Harry blurted before he could think better of it.

Draco burst out laughing.

Severus glared at his son and said, "Mind your tongue, Master Impudence!"

"Sorry, Dad. I just meant—never mind." Harry trailed off, not wanting to get in even more trouble.

Severus tucked the invitation into his pocket. "Now you have something new to look forward to. And something to be remembered and shared with your children and grandchildren. A Royal Revel is most unforgettable."

"Have you ever been to one?" Draco asked.

"No. Only ordinary feasts and such. So this will be a new experience for me also."

"I can't wait," Draco sighed impatiently.

"Dad? Can I ask you something?" Harry wanted to know.

"Yes, you _may_ ask me something, Harry," Severus corrected gently.

"Right. Uh . . .I was just wondering, when I tracked the runespoor by feeling it in my head, you told me that was because I had a connection to the land. Where did it come from? I was never able to do that before. And when Dudley was hurt, I knew it too. Same thing with Draco at school."

"The earth bond and the blood bond are all part of the gifts you inherited when you were chosen the Heir to Prince Manor. Both the Lord and the Heir are given those abilities to help them bond with the land and their families, because such bonds make them stronger. You will always be able to find me, wherever you are, by clasping your medallion. It is the same with anyone related by blood to you, or a blood adoption to you. You can sense when they are in mortal peril and find them to help them, or to call for help.

"The earth bond works a bit differently. With it you can sense certain creatures and plants which are tied strongly to the earth, such as the runespoor or a tree, and either find them or command them to do your bidding. All you have to do is concentrate, Harry. You are one with the land, and the land is one with you. When you came home and set foot on Prince Manor ground, what did you feel?"

"I . . .I felt good, like the land welcomed me. It was peaceful and I felt as if I had come home."

"Good. That is what you should feel after you have been away. If for some reason you feel different—afraid, fearful, nervous—it means something has happened to upset the Balance of the land and you must find what it is and right it. Such is your duty as the Heir to Prince Manor."

"If that happens, how will I know what to do?"

"You'll know. The land itself will tell you, if not Sev Prince himself."

"Oh."

"Your bond with the earth will strengthen after much practice." Severus told him. "Draco, if you will excuse us for a few moments, I have a simple exercise I need to show Harry. Come," he beckoned Harry to follow.

Draco yawned. "Think I'll take a nap. I didn't get much sleep last night." He curled up on the couch. He sure didn't envy Harry another set of lessons, even if his powers as Heir were pretty cool.

Harry paused beside his brother. "Tell me _everything_ later," he hissed, then hurried out the door.

Severus led him to the middle of the lawn and said, "Take off your shoes and socks and stand here." He pointed to a spot next to him.

Harry shot him a puzzled look, but did as he was told. The grass felt cool upon his bare feet. To his astonishment, Severus had also removed his footwear.

"Now, clasp your medallion and concentrate upon your connection to the earth. You should feel a quiet warmth spread up from the ground and into you.

Harry did so, and felt a tingling sensation run up his legs and surround him with warmth. "It feels good."

"Try sensing that poplar tree over there." Severus indicated the second of the two trees at the end of the lawn.

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. After several long minutes, he located the correct tree. He could feel the sap rising in it, the leaves opening to the sun, and he also felt the kind of slow contentment that comes of knowing for years that you belonged. "I can feel it."

"Good," Severus' deep voice sounded very pleased. "The land belongs to you. It is a sacred trust between the lord and the land and not to be taken lightly. Tend to the land and it shall tend to you."

He had Harry walk about the lawn blindfolded, and call out the things he felt with his earth sense. "A dandelion! A pine tree. A maple sapling. A rabbit lives here. A lady bug is sitting on this leaf. This wildflower is good for stomach cramps. Huh? How did I know that? I don't even know what it is."

"But the earth knows. And she shares her wisdom with you. With the earth link, you can never get lost when you are on Prince Manor grounds."

"Not ever?"

"Never." Severus clasped his shoulders and spun him about three times. "Now . . .find your way to the front door."

Harry hesitated. He was disorientated, how could he expect to know where to turn?

He felt for the connection to the land. _Home. I want to go home._

Immediately, he felt a tug upon his psyche, and suddenly he knew which way the manor house was, even though he couldn't see it, he could feel it, like a warm shining presence. He began to follow it, even though he was blindfolded.

It took him two minutes to cross the lawn and tap on the front door. "I did it!" he yelled.

"Take off the blindfold." Severus called. "That was how I found you scrapping that afternoon in the orchard. I followed the blood link to you."

Harry grinned. "The more I learn about being the Heir to Prince Manor, the better I like it."

"Just remember, it's not all fun and fancy powers. There is a great deal of responsibility that comes with these powers, and there is much more you need to learn about the manor itself. But you may practice using the earth link now, and I'll show you a few more of the manor's secrets after we return from the revel."

"Okay. Thanks, Dad. Uh . . .if you can feel me, can you also tell what I'm thinking?"

"No. Just sense whether or not you are hurt. You might also sense when an animal dies, if you are particularly close to that animal, like the runespoor. That is one of the downsides to such a powerful connection."

"Oh." Harry grimaced slightly. He didn't particularly care for that aspect, but as Severus said, there were two sides to every magical power. "Will I be able to sense if something gets born too?"

"You may. It depends."

"So when the runespoor's eggs hatch, I might be able to know about it?"

"Yes. Now, let us see how strong the blood link is. I am going to Apparate somewhere and I want you to find me," said Severus, then he vanished.

Harry played a kind of hide-and-seek with his father for an hour or so, until they were both tired and hungry. Harry found his newfound powers fun to use, though he felt slightly sorry for Draco, who had no such bond with the land. Until Severus told him that Draco had his own connection with Malfoy Manor.

"Someday he will go there and renew the bond, and then you can instruct him on what to do and what to expect. Or I shall, if you prefer."

"No, I'd like the chance to boss Draco around for once," Harry admitted slyly. Then he said plaintively, "Dad, I'm starving."

"As am I. Using our powers, even in small degrees, makes us tired and hungry." Severus put an arm about his son, then they returned to the manor for supper and a shower. All in all, it had been a very interesting day, and they still had the revel to look forward to. Harry was sure it would be unforgettable.

**Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! **

**How did you like Sev's "punishment" for Draco?**

**And Siri and Petunia's for Dudley?**

**Whom or what do you hope will be at the revel? Is there a specific creature or being you would like to see there? Please let me know. **


	43. Fairy Revel

**43**

**Fairy Revel**

_Prince Manor_

_The eve of the revel:_

"Harry! Where did you put the damn boot polish? Don't tell me you used it _all_?" Draco called irritably from down the hall.

"Half a minute, Dragon. I'm almost done, so keep your tunic on!" Harry yelled back, giving a final swipe to his dragonhide boots which he would wear with his special fae finery to the Queen's revel. They were gleaming and he carefully set them by his socks, which were made of a resilient fae cloth and colored a bright green. He then floated the boot polish down the hall to Draco's room.

A young shimmerling named Flicker had appeared around five o'clock to deliver the feast outfits Titania had provided and stayed to escort them to the palace. She was now talking with Smidgen. When Harry had asked his father why the queen provided clothes for them, Severus had explained, "The fae court has a certain dress code for its members, much the way the royal court of England did long ago. Titania means this as an honor, to show us favor, by providing us with fancy dress that was probably made by her own royal tailors. She wishes everyone there to see that we are honored guests and not to be sneered or mocked."

"Why would anyone mock us? We're Princes." Harry said.

"Ah, Harry. The Seelie court is full of factions, and not all of them like the mortal descendants of the Prince line. Some fae still believe we are inferior to them, and therefore would treat us with scorn and derision. But not if they see how the queen favors us. Then they will sheathe their claws and practice their nasty tricks upon someone else less fortunate. Some of the fae are less than kind to mortals and wouldn't hesitate to use spells to make you very uncomfortable or even hurt you. Thus Titania ensures our safety with her gift, as well as making sure we don't embarrass ourselves by wearing something inappropriate."

"Oh. Okay. That's really nice of her." Harry said, then went off to shower and change. He could hardly wait for the revel to start.

Titania had chosen clothing made up of gossamer spider-silk and extra-soft lightly woven fabric that was tough like cotton but flowed over him in a silky wave. He wondered what it was made of. His finery consisted of a shirt colored a dark amber, whose billowing sleeves were gathered at the wrists with three pearl buttons. They were the real thing, Harry knew enough to tell that. Titania would never skimp on jewels. There was form-fitting butter soft leather breeches of a brown shade, and a very long tunic of a beautiful forest green with gold embroidery about the collar, hem and pointed sleeves. The tunic had the Prince crest embroidered on it. It came with a leather belt studded with real amber and emeralds and a leather wand holder, plus a small eating knife. There was even a medium-length cloak of green lined with gold, and to it Harry pinned his fae brooch. Titania had even provided underclothes, much to Harry's embarrassment. Everything fit perfectly. In fact Harry had never felt so well-dressed or so comfortable in his life. He wore his medallion proudly over his tunic.

Draco had similar finery, except his was done in midnight blue and silver cloth, and those colors perfectly suited his pale coloring. His tunic was embroidered with the Malfoy dragon and wand crest. His belt had sapphires and diamonds on it.

But it was Severus, as the Lord of Prince Manor, who really shone. He too had black leather breeches, only his had small sequins on the sides that flashed when he moved. His shirt was spider-silk and colored a lovely emerald green with fancy gold buttons. His tunic came down to his knees and was a beautiful gold color, embroidered with the winged serpent and chalice motif of the Prince family crest in some kind of sparkling silvery-green thread. _His _cloak was made of a rich samite fabric and shifted and changed colors when he moved, from green to gold to ebony and had a light edging of some sort of dark fur about the collar, fastened with a thick gold chain. Severus was also given a golden circlet to wear and his belt had jet, topaz, and emeralds on it.

Both his sons stared when he emerged from his bedroom.

Draco grinned. "You look like a real fae prince, Dad."

Harry whistled. "Just wait till Sarai sees you. She's going to pass out."

Severus gave his sons the once-over, trying not to react to their comments. He felt slightly ridiculous in the court finery, as if he were playing dress-up. Which in a way, he was. The guests at tonight's revel were there to see and be seen, it was rather like a coming out party. Severus knew that plenty of unmarried fae ladies, and probably some married ones too, would be trying to catch his eye or giving him proposals. He knew that most of them wouldn't consider him off-limits, despite his betrothal to Sarai. The fae were notorious lovers and even a marriage bond didn't always mean fidelity.

It was a good thing that one of the things he had studied had been the polite refusal of a liaison, casual or otherwise.

He also cautioned his sons again about drinking any kind of cordial or juice being offered without checking with him or Sarai first. "Some of the fae drinks are very potent and might cause you to become sick or giddy, since their metabolism and physiology is different from ours. So don't accept anything without checking it first. The same goes with the food. And don't ever promise any of the fae anything, because once you give your word, it's a binding contract. Talk with them, dance with them if you wish, but be aware that as Titania's favorites, you are considered eligible and many ambitious lords will wish to ally themselves with you. So beware of any invitation that involves you meeting their single daughter."

"You make it sound like we're . . .celebrities," Harry grimaced. "I thought I was done with all that when we left school."

"Your reputation precedes you, I'm afraid." Severus said ruefully. "Be polite, mind your manners, and keep your wands sheathed. Some of the younger Seelie hotheads like to challenge newcomers to duels and I forbid you to become involved in anything like that, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." They winced as he gave them a very hard glare.

But then his brow cleared and he said, "Now, let us depart and all have a good time."

Smidgen blinked in, exclaimed over how wonderful they looked, then perched upon Harry's shoulder. Her fellow shimmerling, Flicker, also appeared, and meowed for them to come outside, where the gateway was between the mortal and the fae realms.

_The Fae Realm_

_Antechamber of Titania's throne room:_

The first thing Harry noticed when he entered the antechamber of Titania's castle was how it had been enchanted to resemble a woodland grove. The walls were festooned with climbing vines that had large blooming irises and other colorful flowers that emitted a lovely fragrance. Large trees and shrubs also were placed artfully about the "room" and the floor bore a carpet of lush meadowmoss. There was even a small stream running through the east end of the room. Small birds and shimmerlings and pixies fluttered overhead, weaving in and out of the bobbing fairy lights, which were all the colors of the rainbow. The "grove" had all the appearance and smell of the real thing, even though Harry knew much of it was fae glamourie. There were no better masters of illusion than the Seelie, they used glamour as naturally as breathing.

In front of them, the doors to the throne room were thrown wide and a herald stood to the left and right, taking turns announcing the guests to be received by the queen and her royal family.

The receiving line stretched from one end of the broad grotto to the other, and the Snape-Prince family were somewhere near the end, or so it seemed. In addition to the tall, spectacularly dressed, and inhumanly beautiful High Court fae, there were many other denizens of the court at the revel. Harry saw centaurs dressed in fine buckskins with ribbons plaited in their manes and tails, unicorns and pegasi gathered in a kind of herd, fauns and nymphs, dwarves and gnomes. There were brownies and house elves, who for once were not doing the serving or housework, and butterfly fae.

Draco spotted several selkies hanging out by the stream, accompanied by a mermaid, and also a familiar looking kelpie.

"Duncan!" Draco called, waving at their friend.

Duncan Wavestrider looked pleased at spotting them, he was dressed in the same finery he had worn to the Hogwarts Yule Ball. He rose to his feet to come and greet them, holding out his hand to a lady in a beautiful lavender dress. To his shock, Draco recognized his classmate, Luna Lovegood.

"And . . .Luna?"

Harry turned around. "Wow! They really hit it off, if she's his date to the revel. I didn't think regular humans were allowed here."

"Normally, they aren't. The kelpie must have obtained special permission from one of the royal family to be allowed to bring Miss Lovegood along." Severus said, turning about to see what had so captivated his sons.

"Well met, Harry and Severus!" Duncan said, clapping them heartily on the back. "Oh, and young Master Malfoy as well, sorry, didn't mean to exclude you." He bowed apologetically to Draco before thumping him on the shoulder as well. "I'm delighted to see you all here for the queen's celebration. I don't think she's thrown a revel this big since last year's Midsummer gala."

"Hi, Draco! Hi, Harry! Hi, Professor Snape!" Luna came up to them, all pink-cheeked and sparkly beneath the light of the fairy lamps. She had never looked so pretty, or so very fey, her eyes were glowing and for once she seemed at ease with her surroundings. "Guess what? Duncan has asked me to be his betrothed . . .and I said yes. When I'm of age, we'll marry. We discovered that my great-great-great grandmother was half-fae and I inherited her Gift of TrueSight, that's why I was always seeing odd things all the time out of the corner of my eye, like snorkacks and wrackspurts and whompadingles. You see, they weren't just imaginary creatures, I was seeing fae animals and such. Only I didn't know it."

"You mean, all those times you were going all dreamy and stuff wasn't 'cause you were a bit loony?" Draco asked bluntly. Then he winced when Severus swatted him on the ear.

"Draco! Mind your manners! You'll speak respectfully to a lady, even if she is your classmate." Snape reprimanded.

"Oh, that's all right, professor!" Luna laughed. "Almost everybody at Hogwarts thought I was moonstruck. Even I did, sometimes. Some of the girls in my year used to call me Loony Lovegood."

Duncan frowned. "I told you before, my sweet, that _they_ were the ones who were crazy, not you. Don't remind me of them, else I shall be tempted to pay them a visit and take them for a midnight swim in the lake. On a freezing winter's night."

Luna put her arm around the kelpie. "He's so overprotective of me. Isn't it cute? Anyway, the queen invited him to her revel and said he could bring a guest, and when Duncan told Prince Balin about his betrothed being a friend of Harry Snape . . .the prince said of course I was welcome and here I am."

"And here you'll stay. For tonight, anyway," Duncan said, bending down to place a kiss upon her blond head, which was sprinkled with glitter.

"That's wonderful, Luna. Congratulations to you both," Harry said, regretting that Titania hadn't suggested he bring a guest too. But then, maybe there was a limit to how many mortals could attend an occasion like this? He looked at Luna, marveling at the change a few weeks had made in his friend.

Luna, in her gorgeous gown, looked more mature than her fourteen years, she held herself straighter and had more poise than he had ever seen in her before. She had also lost the dazed air and seemed totally in her element. Perhaps it was because she had finally quit thinking she was crazy and accepted herself for what she was, now that she knew the truth about her heritage.

"Thanks! Do you know, I saw a Crumpled Horned Snorkack back there?" she waved across the room at a large bulky animal that looked like a cross between a big-horned sheep and a Chinese dragon, it had long curling horns that spiraled about four feet in the air. "My dad's been trying to prove they exist for ages and I've finally seen one! I wonder if it will mind if I take a picture?" She patted her small reticule, where a magical camera was tucked inside.

"You can do that later, my heart. First we greet Her Majesty," Duncan said. "Your camera will get plenty of use tonight."

"I'm so excited! I've never met royalty before. Have you?"

Harry nodded. "We met Titania after the Great Battle, she came to help me fight Voldemort."

They continued to chat with Luna and Duncan until they heard the herald calling them.

"May I present to Her Majesty, Queen Titania of the Summer Court, Mistress of the Seelie, her royal cousin, Lord Severus Snape, Master Wizard and Heir to Prince Manor." The herald announced in a ringing tone. "And his wizard sons, Harry Snape, Heir Apparent to Prince Manor, and Draco Malfoy, Lord of Malfoy Manor."

The herald, a tall Seelie fae in gold and white livery, held out his hand for their invitation, before waving them across the threshold. "Follow the rose petal carpet to the dais, kneel at the bottom of the stairs and wait till Her Majesty bids you rise."

Then he announced Smidgen as well.

They processed into the hall, which had been glamoured to look like a crystal grotto, with reflecting walls and stalactites and a large reflecting pool off to the side. There were small tables and chairs that looked like stalagmites coming out of the floor and one large floating table with mounds of food and another with huge punch bowls and pitchers and tea cozies and bottles of cordials and wines. Harry's head spun. Draco, walking beside him, was more used to affluent parties, as he had grown up at Malfoy Manor, but even he was impressed at the lavishness.

The hall was lit by glowing stalactites in many different colors, and they presented a surreal aspect to the hall. There was a rose-petal strewn carpet that meandered straight up to the dais where a large gold and mahogany throne sat. There was a smaller throne beside the large one, in that sat Titania's heir, Prince Oberon, her eldest son. He was named after his late father, who had once reigned as king beside Titania. Behind and to the side of the thrones were the members of the royal family, including young Balin, his second oldest brother, Aubrey, and their elder sister, Morgana. Morgana had three children, Aubrey two, all of them were of age. Oberon had one son, Malchiar, though he was still two years shy of his majority. There was also one other member of the royal family present, only she was standing at the edge of the dais.

Harry noticed her because she did not look like the rest of the noble Seelie ladies, who had their flowing silver, red, bronze, or black hair braided and looped or piled high atop their heads, or left to flow down to their feet, all decorated with crystals and fancy combs and such. The girl standing at the edge of the dais appeared to be a little younger than Harry's age, though he knew that was not indicative of her true age. She was wearing a silky sapphire blue gown studded with multi-hued crystals, looking as if the stars had come to play in her dress. What was unusual was that she wore her hair in short stiff purple spikes, tipped with white, and allowed her pointed ears to show. From one ear dangled a diamond heart. Harry also saw that she was wearing boots instead of dancing shoes and had painted her eyes with some kind of blue glittery eyeliner. It enhanced the slanted amber orbs.

Harry noted that she looked terribly bored, but when she caught sight of him, she curved her mouth into a smirk and winked at him. He wondered who she was. She looked like she would be interesting to talk to.

On the other side of the dais was Sarai and her Blades, they were dressed in their uniforms, since they were on duty, though Titania had granted them three hours shifts on and off so they could attend the celebration. They were also wearing mail and carried their swords and bows. They looked like what they were, sharp and deadly, the best of the best. But a look passed between Sarai and Severus, a look that should have set the carpet on fire.

Harry glanced around, wondering if anyone else had seen, and caught the knowing smirks of a few of the guests who had just been received and were still standing watching others parade in and out.

There was lively music playing from a quartet of musicians off to one side, a medley of harp, flute, and gittern, airy and wild, that made Harry want to dance the whole night.

_:As soon as we get through the tiresome court protocol of receiving, you'll be able to dance,:_ Smidgen sent. _:But respect must be paid to the queen, and the riffraff kept out. No one without an invitation gets in.:_

_What happens if someone tries to crash this party?_

_:They get tossed out on their backside.:_

Finally, they reached the dais and knelt before the throne. This close to the fae queen they could feel the power radiating off of her, like the heat of the sun upon a hot July day.

"Rise, my honored guests," Titania ordered, making a lifting motion with her long slender fingers. "You are welcome to Summer, and this revel. Stand here, on my left. That way you shall not have far to walk when I call you again to receive your rewards." She gave them a slightly mischievous smile, before turning back to face the antechamber.

Harry wondered if all the ceremony ever got boring to a ruler, or did one not even notice after awhile?

They carefully mounted the dais and stood on the left amid the Queen's Blades, some of whom eyed them with respect and a few with faint sneers.

They were all astonished when they heard the herald announce, "Lord Philip Anthony Snape and his lovely lady, Julie Snape."

"Uncle Phil's here?" Draco exclaimed. "Did you know he was coming, Dad?"

Severus shook his head. "No. I'm not privy to Queen Titania's guest list. Though I am happy Phil is here with Julie. He is one of the few I can talk to without having to mind every word I speak. Sometimes having a conversation with a fae lord is like navigating a spider web."

There came a soft laugh from behind them, and a girl's voice said, "Is _that_ ever true! Be careful what you say, or else you could find yourself promised to an ogress or given away your firstborn child."

Harry and Draco glanced back to see the girl with the spiked hair standing behind them, her mouth creased in an impish grin. "Well met, my lords! I am Nesmayallindra Highstar." She gave them a brief curtsy. "But just call me Nesmay. Everyone does. Except my grandmother."

"I'm Harry Snape," Harry bowed in return. "Are you . . .uh . . .related to the queen?"

Before Nesmay could answer, another voice piped up, in a drawling tenor, "She's the relative no one in the family likes to talk about."

A handsome fae youth wearing a glittering white and gold ensemble stood behind her, a mocking sneer upon his face.

Quick as blinking Nesmay turned and glared at the newcomer. "I don't recall inviting _you _into the conversation, Malchiar. Why don't you go and drown yourself? Give your selkie lover something to do besides moon over you."

The tips of the fae prince's ears went scarlet. "You are an incorrigible brat! Father told me to keep an eye on you, make sure you weren't annoying our guests."

"Uncle Oberon is such a stick-in-the mud!" the fae girl sniffed. "He needs to drink some more, the way he is now he could pose for a human martyr about to be burnt at the stake."

Malchiar gave her a frigid glare. "You mind how you speak about the heir to the throne, you little half-blood bastard! You should have stayed in Graystone, where you belong. It's not like anyone here would miss you. I don't even know why you were permitted to come here. "

"To keep you from boring everyone to sleep," she returned impudently. "Go away, Malchiar! Go yap at someone who cares about your stuffy old rules."

The fae prince stiffened in outrage. "Someday, Nesmay, when my father is king here—"

"I know, you'll banish me to the edge of the kingdom, where the land is cold and bleak and lock me in a tower for a century." Nesmay yawned exaggeratedly. "That's so old. I'd have thought you'd come up with something better by now. Then again, you've never been quick-witted, cousin dear. You've always counted on your position to get what you wanted, and that doesn't exactly take brains . . ."

Malchiar's face was slowly turning crimson. He abruptly spun and said to Harry and Draco, "Please excuse my little cousin, she has the manners of a troll. Do not judge us all by her wayward example. My grandmother should have beaten her more often." Then he bowed and retreated to the other side of the dais.

"Arrogant toad!" Nesmay sneered. "Just because his father's the next in line for the Summer throne, he thinks he can walk all over me. Ha!" She smirked. "Ahem! Where was I? Oh, right, to answer your question, yes, I'm Queen Titania's youngest granddaughter."

Prince Oberon turned his head and shot the youngest Highstar a warning glare.

Harry caught it and said softly, "Will you get in trouble for talking to us? Your uncle didn't look very happy."

"He never does." She shrugged one shoulder. "Nothing ever pleases him, especially me. Don't mind him. Or Malchiar. They can't do anything to me without the queen's permission. Since my mother died, I'm a full ward of the crown, which means only Gran can order me around. Malchiar hates me for that, because I have more freedom than he does, since Uncle Oberon's like an etiquette watchdog. I'd feel sorry for him, but he's such an ass, he sucks all the sympathy right out of me."

Oberon abruptly gestured and Nesmay's boots suddenly vanished, replaced by glittering heels.

The girl eyes flashed, and she flicked her fingers and her dress shoes became boots again. "No way am I wearing those, Uncle dearest! Not on your life!" She made a face. "Heels! Ugh! Can't walk at all in them."

Oberon looked like he wanted to get up and strangle his niece, until Titania murmured something in his ear, and he turned away, still fuming. Clearly, he had about as much love for Nesmay as his son did.

"Ha! Gran just told him about our agreement." Nesmay smirked.

"I'm assuming that purple spikes are now in fashion, my lady?" Severus queried, rather amused by her impudence, but also glad he didn't have to deal with her. She was quite clearly a rebel of the first order.

Nesmay laughed. "But of course, my lord. Hedgehogs are always in fashion. I hate long hair. It gets caught on everything and it's horribly hot and heavy. It's much simpler this way. Besides, I made a bargain with the queen that I'd wear this wretched court dress without a fuss if I could wear comfortable shoes and keep my hair spiked. She agreed and here I am."

Just then trumpets blared and the doors to the throne room shut with a bang.

"That means the last of the guests are here," Nesmay explained at Draco's puzzled look. "Which means that the party's about to start, soon as they present themselves to the queen. Hopefully this party is going to be one of the good ones, like at Midsummer, and not one of the stuffy boring ones I usually get stuck attending. Is this your first time at a gala, Harry?"

"Yes. I've only been here once before, Prince Balin invited me for a hunt."

"Oh, this will be much more fun than killing some poor wild beast," Nesmay assured him. "At least I hope it will. Usually I don't get to attend the more fun parties, where everyone dances or gets drunk till they pass out. Gran says I'm too young, and Uncle Oberon claims I should be seen and not heard, like a proper half-blood child."

"What's wrong with being a half-blood?" Draco asked. "Sarai—Captain Valinek—is a half-blood."

"But that's different. Sarai's parents were in love, and their union sanctioned by the queen. She has status. Me, on the other hand, I was the liaison of a night, something never meant to be, and my mother was Titania's youngest daughter, seduced by a sweet-talking mortal wizard. Then she died soon after I was born, casting me upon the mercy of the court. It created such a scandal that even now, years later, people haven't forgotten about it. The only status I have is as a royal ward, even though I'm Titania's granddaughter. They'll never call me princess. Not that I want them to."

"But that's not fair," Harry objected.

"Whoever said the fae were fair?" Nesmay shrugged. "That's how it is."

Severus was listening to her with half an ear, the other was tuned to the rest of the hall, but his spy-trained hearing picked up the wistfulness in her tone, despite her blithe assurance that she didn't care about titles and the regard of her family, he got the feeling that the girl was very lonely, almost an outcast in her own realm. It surprised him, given Sarai's insistence that all children were cherished by the fae. All children except this one, it seemed. He wondered why this were so. Then he recalled Nesmay's statement about her mother . . . _I was the liaison of a night, something never meant to be, and my mother was Titania's youngest daughter, seduced by a sweet-talking mortal wizard. Then she died soon after I was born . . . no, that cannot be . . .and yet . . .it fits. Titania came for Voldemort to get revenge upon her daughter, who was seduced and raped by him and who later died . . . Before she turned him into wind, she told him that his line continued . . ._He turned and stared at the fae girl, who showed nothing of her human ancestry, appearing all fae. Surely this child could not be . . .Voldemort's daughter?

She looked too young, about twelve, and Riddle had been twenty-five when he came to the Seelie Court, if this were his daughter, she would be older, it had been forty-four years since then . . .until he recalled how time ran differently in the fae realm, and how her fae blood would have slowed down her aging. So, only half the time might have passed in the Summer Court since that time, which would mean twenty-two years, and to the fae, twenty-two years was nothing, which would put Nesmay's age at roughly ten or eleven human years, as near as he could figure it, though trying to figure ratios when it came to the fae was extremely difficult.

_I'll ask Sarai. She would know the whole story if anyone would._ The last of the guests were being received, and as soon as the final selkie had made his bow, Queen Titania stood up and everyone went silent. All you heard was the soft plink of water from the fountain in the center of the buffet and the stream running through the left side of the hall.

"Welcome, friends and family, lords and gentlebeings all, to my celebration. As most of you probably know, this revel is to celebrate my triumph over an old enemy, and a wrong that has now been righted. My enemy is vanquished and the slight done to my kin over twenty years ago by fae reckoning has been avenged."

Mingled cheers and applause followed this statement, as well as hoots, howls, and chiming.

"But before we feast and dance the night away, I need to recognize a few people who were instrumental in helping me achieve that goal. They are here beside me," Titania gestured to where the Snape family was standing. "Young Harry Snape called upon me and my host when he was in peril from the same enemy, the sorcerer who called himself Lord Voldemort in the mortal realm, but whom you would know as Thomas the Terrible, the betrayer of my daughter, Aislinn. With my help, we defeated the foul necromancer and his followers. I wish to reward him and his father and brother for their part in the great battle."

Cheers followed this statement as well.

"Severus Snape, step forward!" she called, beckoning Severus with the scepter she held in her left hand. In her right she held a glittering object.

Severus came forward and stood in front of her. "Your Majesty," he murmured and went to one knee.

"For your service to the crown, I give you this Brooch of Summer Stars, with it you are protected against any dark spells of cold and ice and the chill of the Winter Court, presided over by my sister monarch Queen Maeve. Furthermore, I also release my Captain of the Guard, Lady Sarai Kinsalari Valinek, from her contract of service two weeks hence, so that she and her betrothed may marry." She smiled down at the shocked Severus. "Does this please you, Lord Prince?"

Severus found his voice at last. "Your Majesty, this is an unexpected honor."

Titania bent down to pin the brooch upon Severus' tunic. "May you and Sarai have many happy years together." She raised him to his feet. Then she leaned close to his ear and whispered, "I have a small request to put before you. If you will meet me in my private audience chamber at ten o'clock, my lord?"

Severus nodded. Then he bowed low and turned to go back to where Sarai waited, with an identical expression of joy and shock upon her face.

As he was leaving, Oberon hissed in his mother's ear, "Are you sure that is wise, Mother? Sarai is a half-blood, marrying her to a mortal wizard, even if he is connected to us will encourage more such unsuitable liaisons. I cannot think that will be a good example for the court—"

Titania held up a hand. "Enough, Oberon! I have spoken and it is done. Sarai chose the best man for her, and you should not quibble over her choice. You well know what reception she had from full fae men."

"You are growing soft, Mother. Were I able, I would—"

Titania gave her heir a scintillating glare. "Be that as it may, Oberon, I am not dead yet. So you shall have to wait awhile before you decide to implement your ridiculous policies banning half-bloods from court, a most unwise decision." She declared crisply. Then she called Harry and Draco to her and gifted them with Brooches of Summer Stars as well as giving them her personal thanks.

Then she clapped her hands and commanded the musicians to strike up a festive air and let the revel begin.

To both boys' delight, Sarai waved her hand and her armor transformed into the same green dress she had worn to the Yule Ball, she turned to her second and declared, "I'm taking my break now. You're in charge."

He saluted her. "Aye, Captain." Then he gave her a knowing smile. "Go have fun, you deserve it, Lady."

"I fully intend to, Lieutenant Morningstar." She turned to her betrothed. "Shall we, Severus?"

"At your service," he bowed then took her hand, and they moved out onto the floor, where many fae were already dancing and twirling to the music.

Harry peered across the crowded dance floor, trying to spot Phil or Julie, but it was almost impossible given the crush of people and beings.

"Come on, do you want to get something to eat or drink?" asked Nesmay. "I'll make sure you don't eat anything that'll turn you into a toadstool or a frog or something."

"Sure!" Draco said. "It beats standing here like a statue on display."

They jumped off the dais and followed Nesmay across the room. The fae girl seemed to know instinctively where to find an opening in the packed crowd, though sometimes she freely used her elbows and feet to clear a path, ignoring the snarls and scoldings of those shoved aside.

They reached the refreshment tables and Nesmay began indicating "safe" foods and drinks, and also not so safe ones. "Don't eat those bristleball fruits in that bowl," she indicated some round fruits with what looked like thorns sticking out of them. "They'll turn you into a hedgehog for a night and a day. They're meant for the fauns and centaurs, who are immune to the bristleball juice."

She indicated merlinnas, a long golden fruit that sort of looked like a plaintain, and a small round purple fruit. "These you can eat. Merlinnas, silk fruit, and gojibaro. And here's some stewed quail, and roasted duck. Oh and venison with bacon with new potatoes."

"What's that blue gel stuff?" asked Harry, pointing to a large tureen with some sort of bluish goop in it.

"That's seaweed and fish scale pate. For the kelpies and selkies and mermaids. They think it's a delicacy." Nesmay wrinkled her nose. "I think it smells disgusting, that's why it's next to all the raw shellfish and stuff. Ugh!"

They moved onto the drink table, where Harry spotted merlinna juice, and said he already knew it was safe, since he drank it at home.

"I love it too, and also frost wine," Nesmay told him. "Frost wine is made from the first picking of the grapes that have gotten a touch of frost. We do that magically, and it freezes the sweetness of the grapes, so when you press them, all the flavor goes into the wine."

Before Harry could tell her he wasn't allowed to try anything alcoholic, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to meet a familiar pair of violet eyes. "Uncle Phil!" He threw his arms about the lean vampire and hugged him.

Philip was dressed in a classy tuxedo with a traditional black cape and he flashed his fangs when he smiled back at Harry. "Long time no see, Harry! How is your summer?"

"Good." Harry answered. "How's the twins?"

"Still driving me insane, but what else is new? I was quite surprised that I received an invitation to this revel, but then, we did fight old Moldy together." He tugged irritably at his collar. "Haven't worn one of these in ages and I forgot how much they itch."

"Here," Nesmay wriggled her fingers and Philip's collar loosened.

"You are most kind, Lady—"

"Nesmay."

"Can you all do things like that?" Harry asked.

"What, glamourie and altering things?" Nesmay asked. "That's baby stuff, any High Court fae can cast glamourie before he's walking. Even backwards half-bloods like me can do it."

"In any case, Lady Nesmay, I am grateful," Philip said smoothly. "I will leave you in the lady's hands, Harry, and go and congratulate your father on finally being able to celebrate his betrothal. Behave now, and no drinking any summerdew!" The vampire waggled a finger at his nephew before vanishing.

Nesmay cocked her head at Harry. "I take it summerdew doesn't agree with you?"

"Uh . . .you could say that," Harry said ruefully. He sipped his merlinna juice and then looked abut for Draco. "Where did Draco go?"

Nesmay's sharp eyes spotted him among a circle of laughing and giggling nymphs, who were cooing at him and touching his hair and arms. Draco looked half-dazed, caught in their magical aura like a fly in a spider web. "There! He's inside that circle of nymphs."

Harry goggled. "Huh? But what's . . .why is he letting them touch him like that . . .? We already have girlfriends."

"Wait here." Nesmay ordered, and strode into the circle of nymphs, who were now eyeing Draco as if he were a tasty fruit to be devoured. "Back off, ladies! This one's claimed already!"

"By you?" one sneered. "Girl, you hardly know what those two funny bumps are on your chest, much less what to do with a boy like this."

"Shut up, Glindara! He's under the queen's protection, so no seducing him. Unless you want to deal with _her_."

The nymphs shrank away. "Keep him, girlie!"

"That's what I thought." Nesmay tugged on Draco's arm. "Nymphs! All they know how to do is one thing."

Draco blinked woozily. "Huh? What happened? One minute I was talking to some hot girl and the next . . ."

"The next you'd have found yourself in bed with one of those bubbleheads," Nesmay told him bluntly. "And that would not have been a good thing."

Draco blushed. "You mean they'd have . . .but I'm not . . .I didn't agree . . ."

"You agreed to talk to them for awhile and to a nymph that's the same as saying you want to bed them. They're utterly obsessed." Nesmay rolled her eyes. "Come on, go and get something to eat. I'll introduce you to the pegasi and the kitsune, they at least know enough to mind their manners. Nymphs are . . .well, nymphs."

Draco followed her back to where his brother was standing, watching the dancers twirling. They saw Luna and Duncan, Sarai and Severus, and Phil and Julie all dancing near each other. Now Draco wished he could have brought Hermione, so then he would have a dance partner. "Umm . . .Nesmay? Is there someone I could dance with that won't . . .err . . .you know . . .?"

Titania's granddaughter laughed. "Of course, Draco. My cousin Kayleara won't mind taking a turn or two about the floor with you. She's already pledged to Lord Ambervale, but he broke his leg in a hunting accident two days ago and is still in splints, so he can't dance. But he won't mind his betrothed squiring about an honored guest. Wait here." She skipped off to get Kayleara.

She returned moments later with a very pretty young woman. Kayleara was the epitome of high court lady, she had hair of spun moonlight and huge green eyes, pointed ears, and was wearing a tight fitting gossamer gown straight out of a _Midsummer Night's Dream_. Draco immediately felt gauche and awed by her. Until she laughed and said, "It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Lord Malfoy. I heard you survived an attack by Unseelie not long ago. Only the bravest live through that."

"Uh . . .yes, milady, that's so. Does . . .everyone at court know about our . . .adventures?"

"Pretty much. We Summer courtiers have so very little happen that is new and interesting, we tend to recall anything unusual that occurs, and you and your brother and father quite took us by storm last season. Would you care for a partner in the quadrille?"

"Yes, please." He held an arm out, and the fae lady took it and they walked out to the floor.

"Kayleara is one of the nicest of my cousins," remarked Nesmay to Harry. "She's Aunt Morgana's daughter, and she has none of the Highstar arrogance or temper. Unlike Malchiar or Uncle Oberon." She kicked moodily at a stalagmite. "I'd ask you to dance, Harry, but I can't move in all this bloody fabric. I feel like a lampshade. A very expensive lampshade." She scowled down at her dress and shot a furtive glance at the dais. "I wonder if she'll notice if I did this?"

She passed her hand over her dress and it became blue silk trews and a long tunic. "Much better."

Harry had to agree, the fae girl looked much more natural in her casual clothing than she did in the fancy dress she had been wearing.

But an instant later, Nesmay's tunic and trews morphed into the sparkling dress. "Damn! She noticed!" A rebellious look crept over face, and she waved her hand over the dress and changed it back to her preferred attire.

It held for about a second before becoming the sapphire dress once more.

"Oh, all _right_, Gran!" Nesmay scowled. She stamped her booted foot on the floor. "Adults! All propriety and no fun! Well, no fun for children of the royal house. You ever have that problem with your parents, Harry?"

"All the time with my dad. I never knew my mum. She died when I was too little to remember."

"Oh. Mine too. She died a day after I was born."

"And your dad . . .he left before you were born or something, right?"

"You could say that. He left to wreak havoc in your world. He was a dark wizard. Or so they tell me."

Harry gaped at her. "You mean . . .your father was . . ._Voldemort_?"

"Unfortunately." Nesmay grimaced. "I never knew him, yet some people think that I . . .I'm like him . . ."

Suddenly Harry understood. "They blame you for what he did. That's so stupid!"

"Not blame, exactly. I was the result, not the cause, but . . .they look at me and see his shadow. They're idiots, what can I say?"

"Why doesn't the queen do something about it?" Harry asked angrily.

"What can she do? Go and turn half her subjects into trees and rocks for my sake? She accepted me as one of her family, which was better than I deserved, according to good old Uncle Oberon. He thought she should have fostered me out to a family of trolls. People gossip, courtiers _live_ for gossip, it's been that way since I can remember. I've been Nesmay the Shadow for all my life." She smiled, a sad bitter smile.

"It isn't right! Just because you're his daughter doesn't make you him."

"You would know, wouldn't you?" she asked softly.

"Yeah. I would."

"He was a terrible man. He tried to kill you, kill all your family. And yet . . .you don't despise me. Why?"

"Because you're not responsible for the choices he made or what he did. You weren't even born when he did half that stuff. So how could I blame you for his mistakes? You were a baby."

"You are wise, Harry Snape. Wiser than half the courtiers here," Nesmay said sincerely. "You see true." She snickered. "A pox on those who say fae are superior to mortals!"

She tossed back her glass of frost wine defiantly. She had begun to hope she had found that rarest of creatures . . .a friend to talk to, but just as she was going to ask if he wished to dance, she heard an unwelcome voice hailing her.

"Ah, Lady Nesmay! I was hoping I'd find you here."

Harry looked up to see a tall fae wearing black and white coming across the floor towards them. He walked with a long stride, arrogantly, as if he owned the castle. He had dark blue eyes, which were currently fastened upon the girl beside Harry. Harry he gave a dismissive glance and then totally ignored. "Who's that arse?"

"Jarillion. _Prince_ Jarillion of the Winter Court, Queen Maeve's youngest son." Nesmay told him. "Gran invited him here as a gesture of peace between Summer and Winter." She refilled her glass.

Jarillion came up and swept his gaze up and down the younger fae. "Well, well. You do clean up pretty, I must say. Then again, you resemble your mother rather than your mortal sire."

"So it's been said, Your Grace. To what do I owe the honor of your company?" Nesmay asked, stiffly formal.

He smiled, but the smile reminded Harry of a shark's, all teeth and no warmth.

"Why, I simply wish to have a dance with you, my lady. You seem to be at loose ends." He bowed, correctly formal, but was there some mockery in it?

"Actually, I am squiring about Lord Harry Snape, tonight's honored guest."

"Who will surely not deny you the pleasure of a dance, now, will you?" Jarillion turned to Harry with a condescending look.

"If that's what Nesmay wishes," Harry said through clenched teeth. He really didn't like this fae noble.

"Let me just finish my drink, my lord," Nesmay said, biting her lip. "Then I shall join you."

"Very well, my lady. But don't make me wait long." He turned and walked back to where a group of fae ladies tittered and giggled, and one of them took his hand and he whirled her away.

Nesmay gazed after them in dismay. "Blast! I had hoped with so many others, he would have forgotten me, the bloody arse. But no, no such luck!"

"If you don't want to dance, just tell him no," Harry said.

"I can't. Even though we're enemies, Winter is a guest of Summer. It's expected that we . . .treat him as a guest. If I refuse, he might take offense and then cause an incident, accuse us of being inhospitable. Wars have started over less. I have to accept his offer. But . . .I can make him regret he ever asked me to dance. I'll play the clumsy oaf and make sure I step on his toes repeatedly!"

She gave a wicked little giggle and Harry laughed also. The girl had spunk and fire. "Go to it. I see some of my friends over there," he indicated a table where Luna and Duncan were sitting, eating some food.

"I'll be back in seven minutes," she promised.

Harry remained where he was for a few moments, watching as the arrogant prince took Nesmay's hand and started to waltz, only to get his foot trod on.

"Ow! Watch it!"

"Oh, forgive me, Your Grace! I'm so terribly clumsy."

"Never mind. Let me lead," he muttered, wincing.

Nesmay pretended to trip and stepped on his other foot. "Oh, my lord, I'm so terribly sorry! I always get that step mixed up."

"What, right foot and left?" Jarillion asked through gritted teeth.

"It's my mortal blood, you see . . ." Nesmay said innocently.

Harry covered his mouth with his hand. Clever girl!

He made his way to Luna and Duncan, who had also been joined by Draco. He quickly filled them in on Nesmay and her unwanted Winter prince, and everyone chuckled at the girl's wicked wit.

When the dance ended, Prince Jarillion limped off the dance floor, looking furious. Nesmay flashed them a radiant smile.

She joined them a moment later.

"You were brilliant," Harry told her.

"What did I tell you? And he can't complain over a little thing like being clumsy," Nesmay said with a devilish grin. "I hope I've crushed any feelings he has for me as a betrothal candidate."

Luna stared at her. "You . . .but surely you're too young to be betrothed."

"Too young to marry, but not too young for her family to sign a contract," Duncan explained.

"He's right. Gran wishes to make peace between Summer and Winter, and there's no better way to do that than with a betrothal. Jarillion's only the last in a long line of Winter princes and lords who have been sent here to . . .woo the ladies of Summer. And I'm the most likely candidate for the honor of being betrothed, since I'm of the royal house but not a ruling candidate."

"So they can't claim that the queen is not being gracious to them by offering her family member, yet at the same time you've no title, so it's a subtle slap in the face," Duncan said.

Nesmay nodded. "Yes. But I'd sooner hang myself than let any slimy Winter lord call me his wife."

Harry felt sorry for Nesmay, who seemed to be a pawn in the court politics. "Do we have to stay in here? I mean, it's sort of . . .getting stuffy."

"We could go out to the gardens, it's cooler out there," suggested Nesmay.

They all rose and trooped out a side door behind a tapestry into the marble paved royal gardens, where grew every manner of fae tree, shrub, and flower in Titania's kingdom. But before Nesmay could give them a tour, a white shimmerling blinked over to her and gave her a message.

"Excuse me, but my grandmother wishes to speak with me." She announced, looking slightly worried. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Harry looked after her worriedly. "I hope that idiot prince didn't get her in trouble."

"I am sure the queen would not summon her just for a trifle." Duncan soothed. "Come, over here are some lover's knot trees . . ."

Harry glanced uneasily behind him. He was enjoying his time here, had in fact learned more on this one evening than he had by reading all the fae history books in the Prince Manor library, but he had the feeling that something unexpected was about to happen.

He also wondered how Severus was doing. He figured his father was probably over the moon, now that Sarai was going to be released from her contract in two weeks. At last they could finally be together.

Harry breathed deeply of the cool summer air and tried to follow along as Duncan showed them the many interesting species of magical plants that inhabited the fae garden.

Meanwhile, Nesmay found herself ushered into a small room just off the hall, where Queen Titania and some of her Blades waited. "Sit, granddaughter. This discussion concerns you."

Nesmay obediently sat down, and Titania sent a shimmerling to fetch the other important key player in this meeting—Severus Snape.

**What did you think of the fae revel so far? **

**Nesmay?**

**What do you think is the important thing Titania wishes to discuss with Severus?**


	44. Titania's Request

**44**

**Titania's Request**

_The Hidden Grotto_

_Seelie Court, Fae Realm:_

Severus groaned in pleasure as Sarai's hands worked out a kink in his shoulders and neck. His lover's strong fingers were as adept at massage as they were at wielding a sword, a fact he was extremely grateful for, especially as he grew older. The stress of the TriWizard Tournament and the battle following had left him really feeling every year of his thirty-five years. This was the first time since the end of term that he had a chance to truly relax, without being beset by invitations from students or visits from relatives.

Titania's gift couldn't have come at a more opportune time. He missed Sarai dreadfully, and counted every minute he spent with her as doubly precious, a gift without price. Now, submerged up to his neck in the steamy waters of an underground healing spring, one of the few that all the fae in the Summer Realm had access to at the palace, Severus could finally release all of the tension he had been feeling. The healing waters of the spring were legendary, when a fae or a mortal with fae blood bathed in them, all their wounds, physical and magical, were healed instantly. It also removed curses and cured most illnesses, even that of iron poisoning. Mixed in a potion and drunk, it cured most mental illnesses as well.

The Hidden Grotto, as it was called, was a well-kept secret among the Seelie Court, and only those with a pass from the Queen could even get past the wards. Sarai had two such passes, one for herself and one for Severus, and she used them tonight so they could both enjoy the pleasure of one another's company without interruption.

After they had danced and talked awhile with Phil and Julie, both of whom congratulated them upon their betrothal, Sarai led Severus down the secret way to the grotto and together they undressed and swam in the steaming water. Severus was astonished at the power of the pool, all of his aches and lingering weariness melted away, and so did the last vestiges of the hated Dark Mark. He watched as the water literally dissolved the brand, making his skin smooth and flawless again, as if it had never bore the Mark ever.

"Incredible!" he had exclaimed. "I feel reborn!"

"And so you are, Sev. The water will remove any taint of the dark magic from your body and remake you as you were born, pure and unstained," Sarai told him. "I am also told that in can, if you bathe in it enough, remove the ravages of time as well."

"You mean, it's similar to a Fountain of Youth?"

"In a way. It has powerful healing properties, which is one reason the palace was built here. I have bathed in the pool many times after a battle and it has always restored me quickly to fighting form. It is a blessing, and also our greatest secret. Did the Unseelie, our Winter cousins, know of its existence, they would fight endlessly to claim it, and we would never know peace. And so we are very careful to ensure that it stays that way. Those who use the pool are bound to never speak of it to anyone. I hope that doesn't bother you."

"Not at all. I can see why you have that stricture in place." Severus said, leaning back into her embrace. "You have magic fingers, Sarai."

She laughed. "Not like yours, beloved." Her hands finished working out the knot, then she began to trail fiery kisses down his neck and shoulder.

He turned his head and their mouths met in a breath-stealing kiss. Sarai could almost always manage to arouse him with the merest touch, and this time was no exception. Desire spiked through him and he took her in his arms. "I have missed you almost past bearing, my heart," he said inbetween kisses. If the water had not already been steaming, it would surely have done so given the passion between them.

"I know. And I have counted the hours until this revel, when I knew I should see you again. Oh, Sev, I am so delighted that Titania has released me from my contract. I love my cousin and her family, there is no greater honor than to protect them, but I do so long for a life of my own, without obligation. And now, at long last, I can have it." Her hands glided over him teasingly. "Finally, I can lay down my sword and be your wife, as we both dreamed long ago, when you became the Heir to Prince Manor."

He gazed into her brilliant green eyes and said softly, "Would you truly give up your sword for me? After all these centuries?"

"Yes. I am a warrior, yes, but I am also a woman. The warrior has taken precedence for over half my life. Now it is time for the woman to flourish." She licked her lips and smiled lasciviously. "I have achieved that which every soldier desires, Severus."

"What's that?" he asked lazily.

"To come home and retire in peace." Sarai answered simply. "Married to the man of my choice." She wrapped herself about him. "Do you know how rare that is, Sev? I am a member of the royal house, a distant one, but nevertheless . . .and such as I am are rarely allowed to follow their heart rather than their family's dictates. I am extremely lucky to have Titania upon the throne, who understands me. If Oberon were ruling, our match would never be. I would have to exile myself in order to be with you."

"Thank the fates that isn't so." Severus said fervently.

"I feel sorry for my younger cousins, however. Especially little Nesmay." Sarai said feelingly. "I know that Oberon is angling for a match between her and that revolting Winter prince Jarillion. He thinks to form an alliance and get rid of an unwanted burden at the same time."

"Because she was born of rape? Or because she is Tom Riddle's daughter?"

"Both, I suppose. Though normally we don't stigmatize a child born thus, as it is no fault of theirs. But Oberon . . .he was close to Aislinn, and when she died . . .I don't think he ever forgave himself for not bringing her defiler to justice. I think he turns his anger upon Nesmay because she was the cause of Aislinn dying, though Aislinn was halfway to the starry realm anyhow, she was so sunk in depression. I think she lived only to bear her child and then went willingly into the arms of the Great Ones. She would never have been a proper mother to the child."

Severus, his suspicions confirmed, asked then, "She seemed a bright and inquisitive girl, if cheeky and outspoken."

Sarai chuckled. "That she is! She keeps the household on their toes. Drives Oberon insane. He expects her to be obedient and grateful to him for deigning to notice her every so often, like his own son is. But Nesmay has all of her mother's spirit and none of her malleability. I think she gets her rebelliousness from her human father."

"Yes. Riddle was definitely a rebel." Severus said grimly. "Has she inherited his temper as well?"

Slowly, Sarai nodded. "Yes, but Aislinn had a temper too. Oberon tends to forget that, but I remember it, since we were close in age and tended to fight on occasion. Aislinn could be a spoiled brat sometimes, she was the family pet. But for all her faults, I loved her dearly. It was a great blow when she faded and died. The betrayal of her lover was too much for her to take. She lived long enough to bless and acknowledge the child, then she died."

"She did not name her own baby?"

Sarai shook her head. "No. Nesmayallindra was given her name by the queen. Titania named her after an ancient ruler of the Highstar line. Her name means "A Beautiful Memory". She resembles her mother a great deal, another reason I think Oberon cannot stand her. He would have abandoned her in the mortal realm, had not Aislinn claimed her and Titania made her a ward of the crown. They have had many an argument over the child, especially now."

"Because of the betrothal?"

"Partly. But mostly because Nesmay has inherited more than her father's rebellious streak. She has also inherited his magic, and to Oberon that is a sign that she does not belong in the Seelie Court."

"She has witch's magic?"

"Yes, poor thing. It emerged last year and she cannot seem to master it. It's yet another thing to set her apart from her fae kin."

"As if being a bastard is not bad enough," muttered Severus. "I was surprised that she knew of her . . .heritage."

"She couldn't avoid knowing. There are no greater gossips than the fae. Titania told her the truth when she was around eight of your human years, rather than let her find out by some unscrupulous tongue waggling."

"What a terrible burden to place upon a child."

"Yes. But what's done is done."

They began to make slow languid love, half in and out of the pool, believing themselves safe from prying eyes for an hour or so more.

However, their idyll was rudely interrupted by a shimmerling blinking into the air overhead.

_:My Lord Prince, please forgive the intrusion. But Her Majesty bids me summon you to her private study, she wishes to speak with you about a matter of utmost importance.:_

"Bloody hell!" swore the Potions Master. But he reluctantly disentangled himself from Sarai, knowing better than to ignore a royal command. He turned to Sarai. "Forgive me, Sarai."

"There is nothing to forgive. The queen would not have summoned you if it weren't imperative. Go, and I shall see you anon."

He dried himself off with a towel and magically dressed himself, making sure he was presentable before following the patient shimmerling from the grotto to where Titania waited.

Sarai swam across the pool, she still had another half-hour left before she needed to return to duty, and wished that her cousin had waited before issuing those orders. There was never a dull moment at court, no matter what.

Nesmay fidgeted in her seat, until Titania bid her to quit acting like she was five again, then she froze.

Titania sat composed and calm, waiting patiently for Severus to arrive. Two of her Blades remained silent and still behind her, their faces perfect masks of inscrutability.

When Severus arrived, some ten minutes later, he performed a low bow and said apologetically, "Forgive my tardiness, Your Majesty. But when you called I was . . .otherwise occupied."

Nesmay tittered uncontrollably, her vivid imagination sending her pictures of just what the mortal and her cousin Sarai had been doing to occupy themselves. She clamped her hand over her mouth to no avail.

"Nesmayallindra!" Titania rebuked quietly.

The girl stifled her unseemly mirth immediately.

Severus flushed, even though he knew the fae were not like humans when it came to bedsport. They were very accepting of it and saw it as nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed over. Fidelity was not something most fae aspired to, and they often took lovers even after being married. To them, lovemaking was fun and to be indulged in often. Unless the participant was unwilling. Rape was a crime in the Summer Kingdom the same as in the mortal realm. But Sarai had been willing and thus Severus shouldn't have been embarrassed. Neither of the bodyguards had batted an eyelash. Yet he was embarrassed, because a too perceptive girl knew what he'd been about.

"Forgive my granddaughter, my Lord Prince. She is young and often forgets what manners I taught her," the queen said, frowning at Nesmay, who blushed and studied her feet.

"My sons often have the same problem," Severus said.

Titania nearly smiled at that. "I can well imagine. Severus Snape, Lord Prince, might I introduce my youngest granddaughter, Nesmayallindra Highstar?"

Nesmay rose and curtsied, holding out her hand. "Well met again, my lord."

"Again?" Titania queried.

"We met during the presentation, Your Grace," the girl explained. "And I also spoke with his sons, Harry and Draco, and showed them about the hall."

Titania looked pleased. "That was well done, child. May I assume that you enjoyed being in their company?"

Nesmay nodded. "Yes, I liked them ever so much better than that icicle prince, Jarillion." She made a face. "Your Grace, must I marry that boor? He makes my skin crawl. I'd sooner marry an orc."

Titania sighed. "Were we not in need of an alliance . . ."

"Then have Uncle Oberon marry off Malchiar to one of Maeve's daughters. She has three, after all." Nesmay said, her amber eyes flashing. "Why does it have to be me who is sacrificed? It's not fair!"

"Nesmayallindra, I have not yet agreed to a betrothal. Now calm yourself." Titania ordered.

Nesmay blushed and resolved to remain in control of her emotions henceforth. Only mortals displayed such explosive bursts of temper. _I may be half-mortal, but that doesn't mean I need to act like it._

"Please be seated, Severus Snape," the queen gestured to a chair that had materialized across from her. "The reason I have asked you here is because I have a request that only you can fulfill."

Severus looked at her expectantly. _Ah, here it comes. There is always a price with the fae. _"And just what would that be, Your Majesty?"

"As you are no doubt aware, my granddaughter is a half-blood. She has inherited much of my blood, including her beloved mother's features and her ability to cast glamourie. Yet there is much of her father in her too. She has recently begun displaying fits of mortal magic, strong ones, and there are no tutors among us who can teach her the proper control."

"I can learn control on my own, Gran!" Nesmay burst out. Then she clamped her mouth shut. So much for maintaining her emotional state.

Titania held up a hand. "No, child, you cannot. That is becoming more obvious every day."

As if to illustrate her point, a book flew off the shelf behind Nesmay's head and thumped to the ground. It was followed by a pretty egg-shaped crystal.

Nesmay ground her teeth together and muttered, "Damn it!"

"Incidences of accidental magic, as we call it, are common among children with magic's gift," Severus told them. "But when they are eleven, we begin to teach them how to control the gift through use of a wand and strict monitoring. Most are sent away to a special school called Hogwarts. But some do opt out of that and are tutored by their parents at home."

"Good. Sarai tells me you were such a teacher back in the mortal realm."

"Yes, I taught potions at Hogwarts, but also defense to my sons privately."

"Would you say you are a good teacher?"

Severus looked rather uncomfortable. "I like to think so. I am a strict teacher, however. I have exacting standards."

"That is to be expected. Those who are masters are often so. Nesmayallindra's unexpected magic caught us all off-guard. I had assumed that her fae magic would remain dominant, but instead her mortal magic seems to war with her fae heritage. I fear that if she does not learn control, it may destroy her."

"Gran, I'm fine!"

"You most certainly are not, youngling!" snapped her grandmother. "Do not even attempt to pretend you are! Last time you quarreled with Malchiar you nearly blew him into the Unseelie Realm."

"Served him right. Machiar's an ass."

Titania's lips twitched, though she did not smile. "That's as may be, granddaughter. Nevertheless, the fact remains that you must learn how to control your magic, before you accidentally kill someone. You are a danger otherwise, especially to yourself."

"Only if you make me mad," Nesmay sulked.

"Enough, child! You are in need of a tutor, and a tutor you shall have." Titania said in a voice that brooked no disagreement. "If you are willing to take on such a headstrong impudent student, Severus?"

Severus hesitated. He knew he could technically refuse Titania's request, but he feared if he did so, the queen might become angry and make trouble between him and Sarai. He did not want the betrothal extended any longer. He wasn't exactly thrilled to take on a new student, but his conscience was nudging him. He had an obligation to teach a young witch or wizard control over his or her powers, it was something he had sworn to uphold when he became a professor. He could feel the magic surging about the room, wild and untamed, and all of it emanating from the girl with the hedgehog hair. The queen was right. Nesmay desperately needed to learn control over her wild gift.

"I shall do as you ask, Your Grace."

Titania gave him a small smile. "Well said, Lord Prince. Normally, I would have you tutor her at her place of residence, Graystone Manor, but I think it would benefit you both if you were to have her come and stay with you at Prince Manor for the rest of the summer."

Severus had been expecting that proviso. Indeed, he would have suggested it himself if Titania had not. On his own ground, which bore only half the fae magic, he could more easily influence and control Nesmay's outbursts. Prince Manor was built to contain accidental magic from half-bloods.

Nesmay, however, was shocked speechless.

For about twenty seconds.

"No! I won't go! You can't make me!"

Titania merely raised an eyebrow. "You forget yourself, child," she said frostily. "Would you defy your queen, Nesmayallindra Highstar?"

Their eyes locked, stormy amber with inflexible emerald.

The silent confrontation lasted about a minute and a half.

Then Nesmay lowered her gaze to the floor. "As you command, my queen." She said, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth, like a draft of wormwood.

"It is for the best, granddaughter. You need refuge from court as well as a decent tutor."

_I could get that at Graystone,_ the girl thought rebelliously. _There is no need to exile me to the mortal realm for a season. My home is here, not with humans. I'm fae!_ But she knew better than to voice any more of her opinion. Titania did not have limitless patience, and her words had the force of a royal command. Nesmay had no wish to spend her last few hours in the palace as a statue or a frog, which had been the fate of some of Titania's subjects who had recklessly defied her dictates. Fae justice could be swift and merciless, and not even her favorite granddaughter was immune from it.

"You have till the end of the night to pack, child. I suggest you ask one of the brownies or nisses to assist you." Titania said.

"As it please Your Grace, but I can do it myself," Nesmay said, coldly formal. If her grandmother wished to exile her to the mortal realm, such was her prerogative, but that didn't mean Nesmay had to like it. Silently, she cursed her mortal sire for having passed on his magic. She could have done without it. It was nothing but a bloody nuisance!

"Suit yourself, pricklepatch," the queen returned, using her old nickname for the girl.

Nesmay felt her ears grow hot. The queen only called her that when she was behaving badly, pricking people with her temper. It was a name only family knew about. She glared at the tall human sorcerer, daring him to laugh.

But Severus remained unruffled. "Your Majesty, if you need to, I shall sign a contract with you agreeing to teach your granddaughter."

"Is that standard protocol?"

"Some prefer it."

Titania snapped her fingers and a piece of fine parchment appeared along with a purple quill. "You may write your terms upon here. I have only one condition. That you treat Nesmayallindra like you would your sons, giving her affection and discipline in equal measure."

"Agreed." Severus picked up the quill and began to write out swiftly the usual terms in his school contract. Once he was done, he signed it with a flourish. Then Titania read it over and she signed it as well.

Finally, she turned to Nesmay. "You may read the contract, Nesmayallindra."

Nesmay took it and read it, though as a minor she could not sign her consent, until she was of age, such decisions as this were her guardian's responsibility. The contract seemed straightforward and Nesmay didn't think it would be too bad. At least Severus didn't seem to loathe her on sight, like her last tutor Klaus Ironhand had. So maybe she would get through this. "All right," she said, subdued. She handed the document back to the queen.

Titania took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Remember, it is but till summer's end. Mind you obey your new tutor and do not disgrace yourself."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Nesmay dipped her head in a brief bow. "I shall try. May I be excused? I will need time to pack."

"Go on with you!" Titania waved her away.

Nesmay curtsied briefly to both her queen and the man who would be her new teacher, then made her way out of the room on cat's feet. Her heart was heavy within her. Even though it was not forever, she still felt like an exile. Conflicting emotions warred within her, and as she made her way down the hallway to her suite, several paintings fell off the wall and broke and a tapestry shredded itself to bits.

Severus didn't know it yet, but he would have his work cut out for him trying to subdue the rebellious young fae's magic without breaking her spirit.

**Well, here it is, the chapter you've been waiting for!**

**Is Sev up to the task? You'll find out soon enough.**

**This has been a rough week for me, I've had my sister visit from Virginia and while it was nice, it was also exhausting and then I had my cousin die of cancer and had to attend a funeral. So please be kind and leave me some uplifting reviews, I really need them. **

**I have also updated But For A Dog and Irresistible Chemistry, as well as Apothecary last week, for those of you who didn't receive alerts for those fics. Please R & R them too! Thanks as always!**


	45. Wild Child

**45**

**Wild Child**

She had only been at Prince Manor three days, but to Nesmay it felt more like three months. She had known that time ran differently at the manor than what she was used to, but even so she had not expected to feel it slipping away from her so quickly. In the Faerie Realm time was a thing you always seemed to have too much of, but not here. Here it seemed that every hour was filled with something to do, and usually it was something she would prefer not to be doing. It seemed that Severus Snape set great store by clocks, he had given her a schedule to follow her first day at the manor, and each part of her day was broken down into hours. Nesmay was unused to such a regimented way of living. The fae generally did not pay so much attention to hours, since their lives were so long, time became almost irrelevant. They generally followed seasons rather than individual days, a day for them was usually divided into morning, noon, and night.

Her schedule was not that much different from Severus' sons, who were expected to rise no later than eight or eight thirty, eat breakfast, and do the chores assigned them upon the chart on the wall. Severus did rotate the chores, so no one was stuck doing the same thing day after day, except for keeping one's room neat. That was a must, and also not something the fae girl was accustomed to doing herself. At Graystone Manor, which was one of Titania's winter residences, Nesmay had a small staff of servants, as befit a highborn Seelie lady. She had nisses to pick up after her, small housefae that were similar to brownies, though they were always female. She had wood nymph maid, Nutberry, and a sylph gardener, Redleaf, as well as the tutor her grandmother insisted she have. The lessons with her tutor were usually scheduled around the afternoon, and the mornings she was free to hunt or take a walk in the woods, or sleep in as she chose.

Since she was only a bastard half-breed, and therefore not of much account, no one had ever really cared what she learned or didn't learn, except Titania, who made sure her granddaughter was educated, but anything else, such as riding, or _kin-sa-dor_, Nesmay had to learn on her own. And she was very much accustomed to setting her own schedule. So it irked her when Severus told her he expected her to follow this same routine day after day. It was boring and she felt stifled, despite the fact that she was given two hours of free time after her magic lessons, as well as some reflective time in the evenings, where she could read or play chess or Dragons Wild with the boys.

Added to that was the feelings of resentment she still harbored towards her grandmother for exiling her to this place for the summer. She understood Titania's reasoning, but she didn't have to like it. She was grateful that at least she would not have to see Jarillion any more, nor endure her uncle's disapproval or Malchiar's tormenting and mockery, but she was still homesick. The manor contained elements of the fae realm, but it was not home. It felt as though she had been exiled, since the fae rulers were known to punish those who disobeyed them repeatedly with exile to the mortal realm for centuries or even forever.

She knew Titania meant for her learn to control her wayward magic, the wild power that had been her father's legacy to her, and which responded so readily to her emotions. But deep in her heart she wondered if this were not a means to an end, to send the unwanted bastard to the mortal realm, with her mortal kin, and so forget she ever existed. After all, what was she in the grand scheme of the Summer Kingdom, but a pawn to be moved hither and yon by the queen? Titania was a great chess player, and her every action was carefully considered to best determine how it would benefit her kingdom. And right now, it appeared it benefited the kingdom to have Nesmay away from it.

Angry and hurt, the girl found herself a cauldronful of conflicting emotions. She knew her grandmother expected her to treat her new teacher with respect and obedience, and in truth she found Severus easier to deal with than all her previous tutors, especially Ironhand, who had been the worst of the lot. Ironhand had been petty and cruel, a dwarf with a grudge against her father and he extended that grudge to her. He had taken great delight in humiliating her and revealing to her the vast gulf between her and her legitimate fae cousins. And also the gaps in her knowledge and education as well. She had detested him, for he belonged to the court in a way she knew she never could, daughter of a princess or not. She had finally managed to get him fired, and since then she had been left to her own devices.

That had been almost a year ago, and it was then that her human magic began to surface, and unlike the fae magic, which was as easy to control as it was to breathe, it came to her instinctively, this magic refused to bend to her will. It exploded from her at unexpected moments, especially when she was under stress or angry. And it lent itself to destruction. That had been one of the things Ironhand had sneered at her for, saying that she had inherited her mortal father's talent for destruction and harm. Ironhand had once told her she was no better than an Unseelie, and would probably do better to go and dwell in Winter's icy realm. Nesmay wouldn't have put it past the spiteful dwarf to have whispered into Oberon's ear about negotiating a match between Winter and Summer, since he was Oberon's creature, hired on the crown prince's recommendation.

Nesmay sighed and looked down at the floor of her new room, which was covered in several outfits, shoes, gauzy scarves and wraps, and pillows and blankets. In short it was a total disaster, as her mentor had told her in no uncertain terms when he had come to inspect her room after breakfast. "This room is a . . .I do not even know what to call it . . .a disgrace, and such sloppiness will not be tolerated by me, Nesmay. I expect you to keep this room neat, not looking like a hurricane rampaged through it." He had told her, scowling, his arms folded across his chest. "Everything needs to be picked up and put away, see to it immediately."

"But sir, I was going to go flying with Harry—" she began, not seeing what he was getting all worked up about. They were only clothes, her clothes, and she didn't mind if they were a bit wrinkled.

"Flying is a privilege, and not one earned until you finish cleaning your room," Severus had told her firmly. "I shall be back in half-an-hour and this room had better be spotless, or else you will spend all afternoon inside, cleaning it and a few other rooms in this house. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir." She had managed to say, waiting until he had departed before muttered. "Bloody uptight black crow! Who cares if you can see the floor? It's my room, I should be able to do what I like in it."

She had stood glaring down at her wardrobe, wondering what her teacher would say if she simply disregarded his orders and went flying anyhow? Or turned all his conservative wardrobe into garments of sheer silk colored shocking electric blue and screaming slime green and bright pink? The naughty idea was very tempting, and she half-considered doing it, until Smidgen blinked into view.

_:I wouldn't if I were you, Nesmay.:_ The dreamweaver said. _:Master Severus is deserving of respect, not ridicule. Any prank you pull upon him will surely backfire on you.:_

"But it would be funny." Nesmay pouted.

_:For whom? Yourself? Because Severus will not be amused. And doesn't it remind you of a similar incident where a certain girl was forced to greet the queen in rags and cinders because her cousin decided to prank her that day?:_

Nesmay flushed upon recalling that dreadful day, when Malchiar had caused her court gown to change into a charwoman's rags just as she was going into the audience chamber, and she had been only a little child and didn't know how to glamour a counter. She had been embarrassed to tears, and everyone had laughed at her, Malchiar loudest of all. She could still recall his mocking tone, "Why Father, look at how the bastard is dressed for court! In rags and dirt. That just goes to show you—half-breeds are like animals."

_:All right. I'll leave his clothing alone.:_ She moped. _:You're such a killjoy, Smidgen.:_

_:If you want to play pranks, do so on Harry and Draco. Why are you scowling?:_

She told Smidgen of her task and the shimmerling said only, _:That is what is expected of you here, so best you get used to it. Chores teach responsibility. And it won't kill you to become organized.:_

She huffed and picked up a turquoise sequined blouse and folded it neatly. "This is so boring! Why aren't there nisses here?"

_:Because the Heir sees no need to employ servants when he has two healthy sons and one apprentice to see to the small chores around here.: _Smidgen sent. Then she blinked away before Nesmay could argue the point further and thus procrastinate cleaning.

She had reluctantly picked up all of her clothes and imagined Snape in purple tights with butterflies on them and a flowered tunic. She gestured and made her boots and shoes dance their way into the closet and her scarves tie themselves together and hang about the bedpost. Lastly, she unpacked her journal and quill and ink. Those went on the desk in the corner.

She huffed and looked about the room. She admitted it did look nicer and airy without all the junk on the floor. Her room was done in tones of aqua and white, with white leafy patterns upon the aqua wall, and deep purple shadows for the trees. It reminded Nesmay of the Deepwood back at home. She flopped on the bed, put her slightly pointed chin in her hand and sulked. _All I want is to go home. Damn my bloody magic! Why couldn't Gran just get rid of it?_

Her frustration built until a small bottle of perfume toppled off her dresser and exploded, drenching the carpet with its sweet hibiscus aroma. _Sun, Moon, and Stars!_ She swore, then got up and cleaned up the mess, kicking the dresser for good measure. But all she got for that was a sore pair of toes.

Severus knocked on the door while she was hopping around on one foot, muttering curse words. "Nesmay? Might I come in?"

"Err . .urhk . . .yes, come in!" she managed to get a sentence out of her mouth finally that wasn't some form of fae swear word. She wasn't entirely sure just how much of the fae language her mentor knew, but Harry had already warned her that Severus was death on foul language.

He entered, raising an eyebrow at the now visible floor and made-up bed."Much better. Now you need to remember to keep it that way."

Nesmay cocked her head at him. "Why do you care?"

"Excuse me?" he gave her a sharp look, uncertain if she were being impertinent or not.

"Why do you care what my room looks like?"

"Because how you keep your room reflects upon me as your mentor, and I do not like a mess. It also helps you become organized and orderly, which is essential for learning discipline over your mind and body and over your magic. And it will not kill you to learn how to look after yourself, instead of relying upon servants to do everything for you."

"Really? Cleaning my room will help me do all that?"

"It's a start. Don't be cheeky."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay. May I go flying now, cousin Severus?"

"What broom are you using?" he asked abruptly.

"Draco's old one," she said off-handedly.

"Go, but remember you have a magic lesson with me at one o'clock, right after lunch." Then he turned and strode out of her room, his cloak billowing behind him like bat's wings.

She couldn't resist casting a small glamour upon his cloak. A miniature face that resembled her teacher greatly popped out from the back and began mouthing sentences silently. She smothered a giggle at how silly it looked upon her austere teacher.

Draco was just coming out of his room and his mouth dropped open as he caught sight of the face mimicking cloak fluttering behind his father. The face narrowed its eyes and scowled, while a hand popped out and shook a reproving finger at him. The blond wizard's eyebrows rose into his hair and he clamped a hand over his mouth, his gray eyes brimming with suppressed laughter.

He glanced back down the hallway and saw the fae girl smirking like the cat who had just swallowed the canary. "You?" he mouthed, and received a nod in return.

Nesmay's shoulders shook.

Draco couldn't believe her nerve, playing a prank like that upon his father. She had brass all right. But he had to admit, it was pretty funny . . .so long as Severus never discovered they were making fun of him. He wondered how long the spell would last, when he saw the face flicker and fade, melting back into the fabric like a ghost.

Severus turned the corner and went back to the kitchen, blissfully unaware of the prank his student had pulled.

As soon as he was gone, Draco and Nesmay collapsed to the ground, laughing so hard they almost cried.

"That was . . .insane! How did you dare . . .oh Merlin, I've never seen anything like that!" Draco gasped, wiping tears from his eyes.

Nesmay giggled. "I learned that one from Robin Goodfellow."

"It's a good one. Too bad Harry missed it."

"I'm going flying. Want to come?"

"Nah. I feel like fishing. Borrow my broom if you want."

"I shall," she said impishly and waited till he had Summoned it for her.

Then they both left the manor through the back entrance, which was by the kitchen. That led into an herb garden, which Draco and Harry were intimate with from being punished by weeding the garden.

Nesmay looked at Draco. "Where would Harry be at this time?"

"Probably in the orchard. He likes to fly inbetween the trees."

"Is he a good flyer then?"

"Yeah. One of the best. Just don't ever tell him I said that."

"Why not?"

"Because then he'll be an insufferable prig," laughed his brother. Draco carried his good broom under his arm. He set it on the ground, called "Up!" and the broom hovered in mid-air, then he mounted it.

Nesmay copied his actions, finding the broom obeyed her. She had one brief flying lesson from Harry yesterday and was eager to learn some more tips and tricks.

She kicked off from the ground as she saw Draco do, and was soon soaring into the air. She glided a bit, did a few circles, then turned towards the orchard.

Draco waved to her from his broom, then shot off to the pond.

Nesmay found she loved the sensation of the wind in her hair and the total freedom that flying gave her. It was better than hunting, better than riding a fast horse, better than anything she could ever remember. She didn't see Harry anywhere, but that didn't bother her, she was too busy enjoying herself.

She had always loved racing, whether against a partner or herself, and so she set herself a simple course, flying in and out some of the broader spaced fruit trees, all the way down the orchard and back. The merlinnas were in full bloom, since the Heir had returned, and their sweet perfume filled her nostrils. They recalled to her memories of home, of running across the dew soaked grass of the estate to pluck the first fruits at the crack of dawn.

She hovered over a large tree, inhaling the delightful scent, her head thrown back, her hair changing colors to show her joy. It flickered from the royal purple to blue to green and then a soft rosy pink. Nearly drunk on the smell of ripe merlinnas, Nesmay suddenly felt dizzy and the sun was beating down upon her. She wiped droplets of sweat from her forehead.

_It's getting hot out here! I'm glad there's a pond where I can cool off._ She turned and headed towards the pond where Draco was calmly fishing.

The blond boy was reclining against a large willow tree, his fishing pole stuck upright in the ground, the line bobbing gently.

Nesmay came to hover directly over the pond, observing the water and hoping she didn't scare away the fish with what she was about to do. But really, the water was too tempting to ignore. She calmly passed her hand over herself, removing every stitch of clothing she was wearing. They reappeared upon the bank in a colorful pile. Then she stood up, balancing with innate grace upon the broom and called out cheerily, "Hey, Draco! Why don't you join me for a swim?"

Draco opened his eyes at the sound of his name . . .just in time to see a nude Nesmay do a perfect swan dive into the pond.

"Bloody hell!" he cried. "Tell me I didn't just see that!"

A few moments later, Nesmay resurfaced, and reclined casually on her back, totally oblivious to the fact that her breasts were on display for Draco and anyone else to see. "Ahh, that felt great!" She turned her head to look at Draco. "You should come on in, the water's perfect."

Draco made himself tear his eyes away from her, blushing so hotly it was a miracle he didn't have steam coming out of his ears. _Merlin help me, but she's skinny dipping! And she wants me to JOIN her . . ._ He abruptly stood up, yanking his pole from the water, and turned around. "Ah . . .no, that's all right, Nesmay. I like to fish, not swim." _Especially not stark naked with my father's new apprentice or whatever she is! And it's not that she doesn't have a really nice body . . .from what I saw of it, it's very well endowed . . .and if I wasn't dating Hermione . . .ahhh! What am I thinking? She's like twelve or something! Get your mind out of the gutter, Malfoy!_

He heard footsteps coming closer and he nearly passed out, thinking it was his father. _Merlin save us, but he's going to drop dead if he ever sees . . ._Frantic, he tried to recall a spell that would make Nesmay look like a rock, or a frog, anything but what she was.

"Fishing not going well, Draco?" Harry inquired, glancing at his brother curiously. He was holding his broom under his arm, and he leaned it against the willow.

"I . . .no, it was going fine until . . ." Draco babbled, stepping in front of Harry. "Don't look over there, please!"

Harry's brows knit together. "Don't look where? At the pond? Why?"

"Harry! There you are! I couldn't find you, so I came here to go swimming," Nesmay called, waving.

Harry made as if to step around Draco. "Oh. That's good. Sorry, I was visiting a runespoor."

Draco moved in front of him. "No! Don't look at her!"

"Draco, what the blazes? Why can't I look at Nesmay?"

"Because she's . . ._naked_ and swimming in the pond, that's why!" Draco hissed.

Harry's eyes goggled. "You're putting me on!" He lunged to one side, peering around Draco . . .and froze. "Great Merlin!"

Draco yanked him around by the shoulder. "For Godsakes, Harry! I _told_ you not to look! It's not a peep show! I can't believe she just . . .went in there like that . . . Dad's gonna have a stroke . . .!"

"Only if you tell him."

"Harry! What in the name of the Light was she thinking!" Draco sputtered.

"Uh . . .that she wanted to go swimming, I think," answered his brother, also blushing now. "The fae . . .well, they don't have the same . . .err . . .they don't think a naked body is anything to be embarrassed or ashamed over. Sarai told me that sometimes they bathe altogether, men and women, I mean . . ."

"This isn't the fae realm! This is our backyard!" Draco cried.

"Okay. Let me just . . ." Harry thought quickly. "Err . . .Nesmay? How much longer are you going to be . . .umm . . .swimming?" He called over his shoulder.

Nesmay splashed about, playing in the water like a seal. "Oh, I don't know. Probably till your father calls us for lunch. You should come in. It's very refreshing."

"Oh . . .umm . . .I'm sure it is . . ." Harry said, coughing. "But . . .well, you see . . . here in the mortal world it's not . . .err done to swim . . .without clothes on . . ."

Nesmay gave him an odd look. "You swim with your clothes _on_?" She started laughing. "But why? Then they'll get all wet! That's just plain silly."

"No . . .I mean . . .not regular clothes . . .we put on swimming trunks, well boys do, they're like shorts, and girls wear bathing suits that cover . . .umm . . .their private parts . . ."

"They do? All the time?" Nesmay sounded extremely puzzled.

"Yes! Especially when girls and boys swim together." Draco added. "Because it's not polite for a boy to see you naked."

"Is there something wrong with the way I look? I know I'm not considered a beauty, but I don't think I'm repulsive, like a troll wife or an ogress, am I?" she asked.

"No! Of course not! I mean . . .you look fine!" Harry stammered. He could feel his ears turning red.

"How do you know if you aren't even looking at me? Maybe I should stand up so you can—"

"No!" Harry yelped.

"I saw plenty before," Draco said hastily. "Why don't you just . . .hurry up and finish swimming so I can fish some more before lunch, okay?"

"All right, but you really should come in, the water's lovely. You needn't be shy, I'll bet you have a better body than Malchiar, and he's always bragging about his muscles."

"We'll take your word for it," Harry said hastily. "Maybe some other time."

They kept their backs to her while she swam, and both prayed very hard that Severus wouldn't decide to take a walk over to the pond before lunch.

Shrugging, Nesmay dove and played, thinking once more how strange humans were.

Lunch went well, Nesmay enjoyed Severus' ham with pickles sandwiches and homemade crisps with malt vinegar and sea salt. Between them, Nesmay and Harry drank an entire pitcher of merlinna juice, which made Severus caution them about having any more of the beverage that day. "Too much will probably give you diarrhea, so I would suggest you moderate yourselves."

Both teens made a face at his bluntness, but they didn't argue with him.

Afterwards, Draco and Harry washed up and Severus took Nesmay into his sparring room to see if he could evaluate her magic and determine how strong she was. Based upon Titania's report, he figured she had inherited much of Voldemort's magic, which was both a good and bad thing. The more elementary spells would come easier to her, but control would come harder, and from what he could sense, Nesmay's magic was wild and tempestuous, much like the girl herself.

Severus directed Nesmay to sit crosslegged upon the mats while he spell-sealed the room. Then he came back and sat opposite her. "Now then. Let me explain something about witch's magic. It is linked, at least in the beginning, to your emotional state, and you'll have noticed that when you become angry or upset, things tend to happen around you. I'd wager you have had things shatter or fall off a shelf when you're angry or perhaps leap into the air, yes?"

"All the time. Once, when I was arguing with my cousin I . . .reached out and shoved him with my mind and he . . .flew six feet across the room into a wall."

"All those incidents are what we call accidental magic, meaning they happen without your conscious thought or control. That is why we teach our children at a special school to harness that raw wild talent with the use of wands and incantations. Had you been raised here, your guardian would have purchased you a wand when you turned eleven. The wand is an important tool, as it helps you to channel and focus your power. Each wand is individual, attuned for the wizard it chooses." He drew his own ebony wand.

"Can another wizard use your wand?"

"Yes and no. Technically, all wizards can use a wand, but a wand works the best for the wizard it was made for. So if you have someone else's wand, it might still function, but it won't be as responsive or as strong as your own. And when you have been using the same wand for years, it grows accustomed to you, and it never feels the same if you use another."

"Can you do spells without a wand?"

"Yes, but only the strongest of us ever manage to do so. That is called wandless magic and not something I wish to teach you right now. You need to get a wand, but right now, Ollivander, the master wandmaker, is on vacation, and only his apprentice is running the shop. I need you to speak with the master, since you may be a special case when it comes to a wand. For now, however, you may use this practice wand." He withdrew a length of hazelwood. "This belonged to an ancestor of mine, but it should serve its purpose." He handed Nesmay the wand. "Flick it up and down."

Nesmay did so, and immediately the wand exploded in a myriad of sparks. She was so startled she nearly dropped it. "Shade and Shadow! Was that supposed to happen?"

"Yes. The wand is reacting with your magic." Severus said calmly. He had rarely seen such a reaction with a practice wand before, but he kept that information to himself. Clearly her gift was stronger than he had first thought. Given whose child she was, he shouldn't have been surprised. He felt uneasiness stir within him. Such power in the hands of an untrained witch . . .

"We shall practice basic spells first, so you can fine tune your control," began Severus, and he demonstrated the most basic spell, one that every child at Hogwarts usually learned before school or within the first week they attended, the spell to create light.

"Hold your wand thus, and say clearly—_Lumos_!"

Nesmay copied him and light bloomed from the end of her wand. "I did it!" she cried, grinning.

"An easy spell. To banish it, you say _Nox_." Severus said. "Now, on to something a bit harder. . ."

He worked her hard, teaching her how to Summon an object from across the room, how to levitate a book and a feather, how to light a fire and then put it out.

She performed all of the basic spells well, though fire and water were harder for her to grasp.

"Severus, is there a spell to glue someone's mouth shut? Because sometimes Malchiar really needs one."

Severus' mouth twitched. "Yes, it's called a Silence Charm, but right now that's too advanced for you."

"Can I try? At least let me try."

"No. You have enough to practice with. I shall teach you how to transfigure an object next time, for now practice the charms I've shown you. And read chapters one and two in this book." He handed her the copy of _Charms for Beginners_. He might have given her a copy of the _Standard Book of Spells Level One_, but there were spells in there, like the Unlocking Charm, that he didn't wish her to learn yet. All the spells in the charms book were harmless and would not lead her into mischief.

Nesmay pouted, her lower lip sticking out adorably.

If Severus were a different sort of teacher, he might have thought she looked cute, but as it was, he found her slightly defiant air troubling instead of amusing. Defiance coupled with the power she had inherited spelled trouble. He fixed her with a hawk-like gaze. "Stop looking at me that way. It won't work. I know what you are capable of and that particular charm is beyond your capacity now, especially when you are tired."

"How do you know when I haven't even tried!" Nesmay demanded, her eyes flashing.

"Lower your voice and do not shout at me, young lady!" Severus warned silkily.

Nesmay could feel his temper slowly bubbling to the surface, and normally she would have been wary of arousing such a powerful wizard's wrath, but she was cross and sulky at his refusal, and not minded to listen to the sensible voice at the back of her mind. "I wouldn't need to shout if you'd _listen_ to me!"

Severus' eyes narrowed. He was incensed at her lack of respect. "I have no need to listen to a child who knows next to nothing about magic. I am the teacher, you are the student, do not presume to lecture _me_. I do not know what you were permitted to get away with from your other tutors, but here you will show me proper respect or else—"

"Or else what? You'll send me away, back home?" Nesmay challenged. Her wand began spitting sparks as she waved it wildly. "Good, because I'd rather be there than here! I never wanted to come here, you know!"

Severus made an effort to reign in his temper. "Whether you want to be here or not, the fact remains that you are here and here you shall stay. I gave my word that I would teach you and I shall not break it. Sit down and control yourself, child."

She glared at him defiantly. "I can cast that spell! I don't need you to show me!" she stormed, and suddenly her wand was pointed directly at him.

Severus stepped aside quickly, weaving a Shield Charm about himself.

Nesmay's uncontrolled magic exploded from the wand in a crackle of purple lightning and slammed into the wall with a thud that shook the room.

Sparks and chips of stone flew everywhere, bouncing off Severus' shield.

Nesmay stared down at the wand in dismay. "But . . .how did . . .why . . .?" She put a hand to her head. It was throbbing fit to kill and suddenly the room was spinning and she felt herself falling . . .falling a long way . . .only to be caught in a pair of strong arms. She smelled cinnamon and cloves and some other more exotic spices and then the blackness shrouded her and she knew nothing more.

Severus stared down at the girl in his arms and swore. "Idiot child! Are you trying to kill yourself?"

Nesmay was pale as snow, and he could feel her body start to shake with chills and burn with fever as she drained her magical core and began suffering spell backlash. Given no incantation or direction except uncontrolled rage, her magic had reacted violently, drawing upon the girl's reserves with a vengeance. Severus swore again and Apparated from the workroom to Nesmay's bedroom.

He then Summoned several draughts from his personal stores, including a Magic Replenisher, a Class 6 Headache Remedy, for he knew from experience that her head would be threatening to split itself in two after such a wild surge of power, a Stomach Soother, because the headache would make her nauseous, and a small vial of wakeflower.

He waved the wakeflower under her nose.

Nesmay groaned, coughed, and opened her eyes. "Oooh! My head!" Tears sprang to her eyes. She had never felt such horrible stabbing pain in her life. "Make it stop!" she sobbed.

Cool hands touched her cheeks. "Shh, child. Relax."

She squinted, recognizing Severus by his voice more than sight, for it hurt to focus her vision. "It hurts, Severus!"

"I know. This is what happens when you overspend your magic." He held the Headache Remedy to her lips. "Drink. This will help."

She gulped, sputtered, and swallowed. The pounding of dwarven hammers against her skull receded a little. "My eyes . . .it's all blurry . . ." she whimpered, frightened.

"The potion will begin to clear your head soon." He put an arm behind her head and lifted. "Open your mouth. You have more potions to take. Here's the next one, a Stomach Soother."

Nesmay swallowed obediently, for her stomach was doing flips and the last thing she wanted was to throw up all over Severus, who probably hated her for almost killing him, even if she hadn't intended to. The draught tasted like mint and when it hit her stomach, it made it stop churning almost instantly.

Severus gave her the Magic Replenisher next.

She grimaced but managed to get it down. She felt a warm glow spread through her, easing the chill that seemed to have settled deep in her bones. "That feels . . .nice . . ." she murmured. She looked up at him in consternation. "I . . .I didn't mean . . .I just thought . . ."

"You just thought you knew better than I did, a common failing among most students your age." He finished. "Now, I would hope, you have learned your lesson?"

She nodded, feeling wretched and stupid. How he must despise her! She closed her eyes, tears dribbling from beneath her lashes.

She felt something patting her cheeks, then strong fingers began to massage her temples, easing the awful throbbing even further. She sighed with relief. Maybe he didn't hate her that much after all. "Will you . . .send me away?" she whispered.

Severus sighed. "No, child. Rest. I shall discuss your behavior and the consequences when you are well."

Nesmay tried to relax. His hands were gentle, as they continued to rub her head and ruffle her spiked hair. She could not remember the last time anyone had been willing to care for her this way, especially after her own folly had resulted in the misery. She felt herself drifting and allowed herself to sink into sleep. She would worry about how much trouble she was in later.

Severus waited until her breathing had evened out before withdrawing his hands. He stared down at his rebellious charge and shook his head. _Yet another who must learn things the hard way, I see. Sarai, I wish you could be here now, instead of two weeks later. This is proving more difficult than I ever anticipated._

He pocketed her wand before leaving the room. He had known the girl would prove a challenge but had never expected this.

**Hope you all liked this. Severus' troubles with Nesmay are just beginning.**


	46. Explosive Magic

**46**

**Explosive Magic**

"Where's Nesmay?" Harry asked when they came down to breakfast the next morning and didn't see their fae guest anywhere. Usually Nesmay was up at dawn and the first to the breakfast table.

Draco, yawning and uncommunicative as was his wont in the morning, slid into his usual spot and commenced adding sugar to a steaming cup of coffee. He was only allowed to drink coffee at the manor, and he had been craving the caffeine-charged brew for months. He barely noticed that Nesmay was absent, until Harry said something.

Severus looked up from dishing out the ham, egg, and potato omelet and answered, "She's sleeping in for today. She had a slight . . .accident with her magic during last night's lesson."

"Is she okay?" Harry asked, concerned.

"She will recover, don't worry about it. By the afternoon she should be well and able to do the chores I will assign her." Severus said, a frown stealing across his face.

Draco sipped his coffee and a look passed between him and Harry. He had a feeling that the girl had earned herself some punishment chores, based upon their father's reaction. "Normal chores or punishment ones?" he asked.

"That is between me and Nesmay," Severus said crisply.

"She's in trouble," Draco stated, knowing how his father disliked discussing other students' detentions with their classmates. "What did she do? Mouth off to you? Or did she try and get you to swim with her naked?"

Harry elbowed his brother in the ribs.

"What? It's the truth!"

Severus looked alarmed. "Draco, to what are you referring?"

Harry shook his head, but Draco ignored him. He felt Severus should know that the girl was out of control. "Yesterday I was fishing down by the pond, and Nesmay decided to take a dip in the pond . . .she jumped off her broom into the water . . . totally naked. I almost died."

"I _told_ you, Draco, she didn't know any better!" Harry burst out. "The fae don't have problems with seeing each other naked."

"That is so," Severus agreed. "However, she must learn that customs here are different. I shall have to speak to her about it . . .as well as some other things." He bit back a sigh. Once again he wished that Sarai were there. A woman would know how to handle this kind of thing better than he would. _Skinny dipping, for the love of Merlin! In front of my two sons!_

"Boys, eat your breakfast. I need you to help me gather some ingredients today for a few drafts I'm brewing, then you may have the rest of the day free to do as you wish."

They both thanked their father and asked what ingredients they would need to harvest.

Severus waved a hand and the ingredients wrote themselves upon the chart on wall next to that day's chores. "I trust you know how to harvest them correctly and don't need me hovering over you."

"Yes, Dad," the brothers answered, then they began eating their breakfast again.

Neither of them really minded harvesting ingredients, since it got them outside and the manor in the summer was lovely, with everything green and growing and the weather an even seventy-five degrees with the sun shining.

While the two boys were out harvesting the various ingredients, Severus went upstairs carrying a tray with some toast, tea, and a milky gruel. He figured Nesmay should be awake now and probably hungry as well. The odd thing about magical drain was that it made you hungry afterwards. Severus suspected that was because the wizard's body was trying to replenish the energy it had lost and food was fuel to the body. But at the same time he knew that the girl's stomach probably wouldn't be able to tolerate a heavy meal, and so he had chosen light foods, rather than risk an upset stomach.

Nesmay woke to a hand shaking her shoulder gently.

"Nesmay, child, wake up."

She groaned, wondering why her tutor was waking her instead of one of the nisses, but then she recalled she was at Prince Manor, where they had no servants and so her teacher was performing that task himself. "All right! I'm up." She opened her slanted eyes and peered up at him.

"Good. How are you feeling?"

Nesmay took stock of herself. "Tired. Sore. And . . .hungry." She was suddenly starving, as if she had not eaten in weeks. It was then she smelled the aroma of the tray Severus had hovering over his shoulder. "Is that . . .for me?"

"Indeed. Who else would it be for?"

"I thought . . ." she trailed off then and glanced away. She did not finish the rest of what she had been about to say, which was that in the past Ironhand had often punished her by withholding food.

"You'll not starve in this house, young one," said the Potions Master, guessing correctly what she had not said. "I have never and will not ever punish a student of mine in that fashion. Eat." He lowered the tray to her lap and waited until she had begun eating before saying, "However, there is the matter of your disrespect to be addressed as well as the . . .shall we say . . .attitude towards your . . .err . . .disrobing in front of my sons . . ." Severus's voice was even, but he felt a slow reddening of his cheekbones occur in spite of himself.

For long moments, there was silence, as Nesmay made the food in front of her vanish. Severus waited until she had done, then cleared his throat. "I know that our customs here at the manor differ from those in your land, however, I do expect you to honor them. Here, a girl does not . . .strip naked in front of boys or men . . .it is not considered proper or modest behavior for a man to see you in such a state."

She looked at him, her amber eyes puzzled. "Why? Is it because you think I am ugly?"

"No . . .it's because . . .a woman's body is . . .well, a private thing . . .and not something you should flaunt, especially in front of impressionable teenage boys. My sons . . .they were embarrassed, but they didn't think you were ugly . . .I'd say rather the opposite . . .ahem! . . .But be that as it may, in the future, if you wish to swim you need a bathing suit."

She cocked her head. "Mortals! Why do you like wearing so many clothes? Do you wear clothes to bathe as well?"

"No, for we bathe in private. When we go to Diagon Alley for your wand, you may shop as well for a bathing suit."

She pouted a little. "Must I? I don't think I need—"

"I do," Severus said firmly. "No bathing suit, no swimming."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine!" she huffed.

"Mind the attitude, unless you wish me to add to your punishment chores," he scolded. In some ways, her insolence reminded him a good deal of both Harry and Draco when they were sulky, but in another way her sudden mood changes were difficult for him to interpret. "For your disrespect and disobedience, you will be assisting me in my lab today, readying the ingredients I need for my potions. You shall be skinning a pound of shrivel figs and chopping acacia roots and grinding dungbeetle carapaces. You will also be scrubbing cauldrons afterwards. While you are doing so, I would like you to think about how you should have behaved towards me, and remember what your disobedience cost you. Had you listened to me in the first place, you would not be lying here exhausted now. Do you know how close you came to destroying yourself, young lady?"

She winced at the sharp tone. Oddly, his disapproval cut her worse than any scolding her uncle had ever given her, any thrashing she had received at the hands of Ironhand. She did not know why this was so, nevertheless it was true. "It wasn't my fault!"

"That you lost control, no. But losing your temper and arguing with me most certainly was. I had thought better of you, Nesmayallindra Highstar." He rebuked.

She hung her head. "Forgive me, _Amarsi_." She said, using the fae word for teacher or master.

"After your punishment, you shall be forgiven and I hope there will not be a repeat of such behavior, or else you shall find me a most unpleasant taskmaster. Control is essential to mastering your magic, Nesmay. You _must_ learn it, before your magic destroys you."

She nodded obediently, though inwardly she wondered why he cared if she should happen to destroy herself with her wayward power. What was she to him but a half-breed cousin, the daughter of his sworn enemy. Why would he care whether she lived or died?

"Very well then. Dress and then come and meet me in my lab. I shall have the shrivel figs waiting for you."

"But Severus . . .I don't know how to . . .that is I've never . . ." she stammered, hating to admit her ignorance.

"Never what?"

"I've never prepared any potion ingredients before."

"Ah. Then it's about time you learned. Potion making is a skill that is essential to a witch or a wizard." And with that, he strode out of the room.

Shrugging, she quickly dressed, wondering if skinning shrivel figs would leave her hands sore and blistered, the way skinning frost pears had back home.

An hour or so later, Harry and Draco trooped into the lab, their gathering baskets filled with the herbs and roots Severus had told them to collect. Harry shot a glance at Nesmay, who was silently skinning shrivel figs at the table with a slender curved knife.

"Got yourself in trouble already?" he teased.

She tossed her head and eyed him crossly. "No more than you have." Skinning figs was dreadfully time consuming and boring, since you had to be careful not to rip the skin when you removed it from the fig.

"How would you know?" snorted Draco.

She smirked. "A little bird told me."

"Thanks ever so much, Dad," said Harry.

"I told her nothing. I didn't need to." Severus said without ceasing to stir his mixtures.

"Then how did she know?" demanded Draco.

"Women's intuition," their father smirked.

Nesmay copied him. She enjoyed teasing the boys, especially since they weren't like Malchiar, who would have made her pay for learning any secret of his tenfold.

The boys acted like that was ridiculous. "Here's your ingredients, sir," Draco said then. He placed his carrying basket and shears on the workspace near the first cauldron.

"Thank you, Dragon. Would either of you care to assist me?"

Draco hesitated. "Uh . . .maybe some other time. I want to go fishing."

"Go on then," The Potions Master waved him off.

"Catch us some bass this time, Draco," Harry called after the blond's retreating back.

"I'll catch whatever I catch," the other tossed back over his shoulder. "_Accio_ fishing pole!_"_ A fishing pole zoomed into his hand.

Nesmay stared in envy after him. "I wish I could do that," she muttered, half to herself. "All I can do is blow up things."

"Practice makes perfect," said her mentor. "Keep skinning those figs, and mind you don't tear them."

"Yes, sir." She muttered, struggling to keep the resentment from her tone. She really hated this punishment, even if she knew she deserved it.

Harry sat down next to her at the work station and began calmly chopping up the stalks of lavender and betony he'd gathered. "Don't mind him," he said in an undertone. "He's always like this in his lab. Wants everything just so, otherwise his potions will be ruined. Just go slow and careful."

"It's taking forever," she groaned.

"Mmm . . .some ingredients are like that. Haven't you ever made a potion before? Or don't the fae use them?"

Nesmay gave him an incredulous look. "Of course we use them! Who do you think taught humans about them? But my tutor always said that I wasn't good enough to help prepare any potions, I was a clumsy silly girl. And anyway, he didn't know how, he was a dwarf and they aren't good with potions, just stone and wood carving, mining, and enchantments of earth. Master Dalieth, the Royal Apothecary, would have taught me, but Ironhand didn't think a half-breed needed to know anything like that and he told him it wasn't necessary."

Harry chuckled. "Don't ever let Dad hear you say that. He'll have a stroke."

"That tutor of yours was a blithering idiot. Your grandmother should have fired him." Severus remarked.

Both children jumped. "You _heard_ that?" Nesmay exclaimed. "You must have fae ears."

"Or a bat's," Harry teased.

"Would you like to crush dungbeetles, Mr. Snape?" drawled his father in a dangerous tone.

Harry gulped. "Uh, no, sir! Sorry, Dad. That was rude." He concentrated upon his plants then.

Nesmay resumed her skinning, supposing that even this time-consuming chore was better than being starved for a day. At least it was cool in the lab and Severus was not sneering over her shoulder, lamenting about training a hopeless half-breed who would never amount to anything.

She wondered if this was how a real family behaved, calmly working together to accomplish a goal. She tried to compare it with how her own family behaved, but couldn't remember a single instance when they hadn't been quarreling, and so gave up. She examined her hands, which were stained purple because of the fig juice. Then she shrugged went back to her task.

Harry was finished with his ingredients by the time Nesmay was set to chopping roots. "Dad, I'm going to go and visit the runespoor."

"A runespoor?" Nesmay looked up, her eyes alight. "A three-headed magical snake? Might I see it too?"

"_Only _after you have served your punishment," interjected Severus sternly.

Nesmay sank back in her chair, sulking. "But _Amarsi_, this is taking forever!" she whined. "It's not fair!"

Severus ignored her. Harry shot her a sympathetic glance, saying, "Hey, you can always come with me tomorrow. Don't whine, he hates that." Then he too departed.

Nesmay grumbled some more under her breath and returned to chopping up the acacia roots with a vengeance. Punishment chores were awful!

By the time she was done scrubbing the last cauldron, her hands felt dry like reptile skin, her shoulders ached, and she was sick and tired of being inside. She needed some fresh air and sunshine desperately.

"May I go now, sir?" she asked, keeping her tone respectful.

"A moment," Severus lifted a hand to halt her mad dash from the lab. "I was thinking we might go to Diagon Alley today to purchase a wand for you. Since it is past noon and you are probably starving, we could also eat there, if you would like."

"Would Draco and Harry come too?"

"Yes, if they wished. Are you up to it?"

Nesmay nodded vigorously. "Just let me take a bath and scrub this disgusting film off my hands." She darted up the stairs like a young doe, taking the steps two at a time.

Severus finished storing his potions then also made his way upstairs, though at a more leisurely pace.

HSSSDMHS

Some ten minutes later, they were all standing next to the bar in _The Leaky Cauldron_, and Harry and Severus had to endure having their hands shook, toasts raised in their honor, and pictures taken. They were now considered heroes for their part in the second defeat of Voldemort. Nesmay pressed against Draco, half-fearful that the crowd of wizards would recognize her as the despised wizard's daughter, until she recalled that no one here knew who she was or that Tom Riddle had ever sired a child.

When Harry and Severus finally managed to wriggle away from their well-wishers and admirers, Nesmay had composed herself and walked beside them proudly, her Seelie court training coming in handy. Those who saw her took her for nobility, and gave her a wide berth.

Nesmay looked wide-eyed at everything, exclaiming over the candy shop, the joke shop, and the pet shop as they passed it. "It's almost like the Goblin Market at home," she confided to Draco, who was smirking at her imitation of a country yokel in the big city. "Except we have more non-humans about, selling and buying. And if you cheat a goblin, they cut off your fingers."

Draco shuddered. "That's barbaric!"

"That's goblins. Swift strict justice. But it discourages thieves."

"I guess it would," Harry said. "Someday, I'd like to see it."

"Maybe you will." Nesmay said. Then she muttered, "If this summer ever ends."

They rounded a corner and saw Quality Quidditch Supplies. Immediately, Snape's sons clamored to go inside.

"Just for a look, Dad," pleaded Draco.

"We won't stay long, we just want to see the new models," Harry wheedled, giving his father his best big-emerald-eyed stare.

Severus opened his mouth to say they could visit the shop later, but then he changed his mind. Better if the boys were out from underfoot when Nesmay was choosing her wand. "All right. Go, but no buying anything unless I see it first."

The two boys whooped and raced into the store, leaving Severus and Nesmay outside.

Nesmay looked up at her teacher. "I don't understand. What's Quidditch?"

"You mean the boys haven't told you about their favorite pastime yet?" Severus eyed her in disbelief. "Quidditch is the sport of the wizarding world, but if you ask me, it's a bloody waste of time. Come along, Nesmay. Your wand is more important than gawking at the latest racing broom and ball set." He grasped her arm firmly and towed her along.

She scowled. "I'm not a baby, I don't need you to hold my hand."

"The streets are crowded. I don't want to become separated," was all he said, and he didn't release her wrist.

Nesmay blushed, and tried to ignore some of the glances she was getting from a few younger witches and wizards. Really, Severus was impossible sometimes! She wasn't some child unable to ask directions if she did become lost. By the time they had reached the wandmaker's, Nesmay was humiliated and her temper was rising.

She pulled free of Snape's grip and snapped, "I can walk into a shop on my own!" Then she pushed open the door and stalked in, her gauzy fae lavender shirt fluttering behind her like wings, her hair lifting and crackling with sparks of stray magic.

Severus hastily followed, not quite grasping why Nesmay was in a mood, but knowing he needed to calm the girl down. He laid a hand on her shoulder. "Nesmay, control yourself."

She started to shake off his hand, but then took a deep breath instead, trying to bring her wayward emotions under control. She focused upon the shop interior, which was dim and cramped and filled with boxes upon boxes of wands. Wands were everywhere, looming on shelves above the counter, hanging from the ceiling, on display on small tables with little globes hovering over them. She focused upon a wand made of heartwood sitting upon a low table, breathing in and out until she had mastered her annoyance at Severus.

Then she straightened up and met the wise knowing eyes of the old wizard behind the counter.

"Hello, Professor Snape," greeted Ollivander himself. "Ebony, thirteen inches, with a runespoor scale core. One of the few wands I've made using that core, as I usually prefer the more malleable unicorn hair, dragon heartstring, and phoenix feathers. Come to purchase a wand for your . . .daughter? Your niece?"

"She is a cousin of my family," Severus said smoothly, nudging Nesmay forward. "And in dire need of a wand."

Ollivander looked Nesmay up and down with a curious air. "I see. Strong in magic, yes?"

Severus nodded curtly. "Too strong. Her magic is unpredictable at times."

"Hmm. Perhaps a wand of holly and oak?" Ollivander mused. He took down a box and opened it to reveal a slender spiral wand. "Try that, lass. Give it a wave."

Nesmay did so, uncertainly. The wand did nothing. A small puff came out of it. Disappointed, she said, "Maybe it's broken."

"Broken?" laughed a boy mockingly. "It's not the right combination for you. Don't you know anything?"

Nesmay looked up to see a lanky boy of about seventeen lounging in the doorway behind the counter. He was dressed in maroon robes with wands etched all over them, he had curling blond hair and blue eyes that reminded her of a sheet of ice, cold and mocking. She gave him a haughty stare in return. How dare this insolent boy laugh at her?

Ollivander turned and said quietly, "Now Abelard, that's no way to speak to a customer."

"But Uncle, she's ignorant. Or stupid . . ."

"Stupid!" Nesmay flared. "I can recite all the possible conjuctions of the stars on Midsummer Night, you popeyed mudpuppy! I'll bet you couldn't even name one!"

The boy bristled and seemed about to retort when Ollivander said smoothly, "There now, young maid, my nephew didn't mean to insult you. He's just a bit rough around the edges, first time in commerce, you see, so please forgive his ill manners. My sister spoiled him too much as a boy."

Nesmay snuck a glance at Abelard, who was now red as fire, and she smirked, enjoying his humiliation. Served him right!

Ollivander repacked the holly and oak wand and handed the box to Abelard. "Put that away, boy. And recall some of the manners I've taught you, for Merlin's sake!"

"Yes, Uncle," the boy said, ducking back into what was most likely a storage closet with the wand.

"Now, let's try another. Bay wood, ten inches, with a unicorn tail core," Ollivander removed a pure white wand from a bed of blue velvet. "Try that one, my dear."

Nesmay waved it. It shot off purple sparks and then fizzled.

"No, not quite right. Perhaps this hickory, twelve inches, with a phoenix feather core. . ."

Wand after wand was tried and none seemed to match. Nesmay longed to scream, for Abelard stood in the doorway, indolent and smug, his eyes mocking her as she picked up a wand only to discard it a moment later.

"Perhaps we have no wand suited for the little girl," drawled Abelard nastily after the twenty-fifth wand was tried.

Severus' eyes flashed. "Cease your insults, _child_. Or else _I_ shall teach you some manners. With a willow switch."

Abelard gulped, for the glare Snape was giving him was ferocious. "I-I'm not a child. I'm seventeen!" he said petulantly.

"Abelard, if you cannot stop insulting my customers, go in the back and polish some wands," Ollivander said crossly. He flicked his own wand, and an invisible hand picked up his annoying nephew and dragged him into the back room. "Don't despair, lass. Sometimes a very powerful witch takes a long time to find a wand to suit her. Why, your cousin here took nearly an hour before he found one, isn't that so, Professor?"

"Yes. The wand chooses the witch, Nesmay."

Nesmay was panicking. What if there were no wands suited for her? What if her mix of fae and mortal magic prevented her from getting one? Several boxes began to shake and tremble. What if no wand chose her because of her father? Then another thought occurred to her. What kind of wand had _he_ had? Something loathsome, like a human bone overlayed with skin? She burned to ask Ollivander that question, but couldn't quite bring herself to do so.

Finally, Ollivander summoned a wand from the very top and back of his shelf above their head. "Here, lass. This wand was made by my grandfather, a premier wand maker. It has been in this shop for as long as I can remember. Kingwood, fourteen inches, with a phoenix feather core." He held out the wand, which was twisted like a unicorn's horn.

Gingerly, Nesmay took it. Unlike the other wands, this one came alive in her hand. It felt warm and comforting, like an old friend.

"Kingwood is very magical. Good for protection and healing." Ollivander went on, explaining the properties of the wand.

Nesmay waved it a little and colored sparks shot out of it, flying about the room.

"Good! I believe the wand has found a match!" Ollivander cheered.

Nesmay nearly jumped up and down. "It feels warm in my hand."

"Good. That is how a wand should feel," Ollivander said. "Can you cast a spell?"

Nesmay cast Lumos, and the wand lit with a brilliant glow.

"Brilliant, my dear!" chortled Ollivander. "Let's get you a wand kit, shall we? And then your cousin and I shall discuss payment."

Nesmay played with her wand, gently waving it and making it blink on and off, immensely relieved that a wand had chosen her after all. Ollivander yelled for Abelard to bring him a wand kit and then began gently haggling with Severus over the wand cost. The kit was free, compliments of Ollivander.

Abelard slouched into the shop with the kit, eyeing Nesmay suspiciously. "Finally got one to pick you, eh? Which one was it, the maple with the hair of the donkey?"

"Sounds like the wand for you," sneered Nesmay and she showed him her wand.

He gasped. "The _kingwood_? But that wand's never chosen anyone!"

"It has now," Nesmay said loftily.

"Impossible! That wand was made for royalty, not some slanty-eyed little brat!"

Nesmay drew herself up to her full height. "For your information, I _am_ royalty. On my mother's side."

"Liar."

Now there was no worse insult in fae society than to accuse one of telling an untruth. Winter or Summer Court, no fae could lie. It was not in them to tell a complete untruth, though they could tell half-truths.

Nesmay's temper went from cold to boiling in about a second flat. "Take it back!" she hissed, her amber eyes glowing in rage.

Abelard laughed. "Royalty indeed! You're nothing but a lying little snot that wishes she were a princess, but will always be nothing but a half-blood." Ollivander's nephew had no idea just how close to home his sneering assessment had struck. "What are you anyhow, part house elf? Your ears are big enough."

Nesmay saw red. "You have the manners of a troll, you puke-faced son of an ogre!" Then she pointed her wand at him.

Severus turned. "Nesmay!"

Too late.

Blue and purple energy exploded from the girl's wand and streaked towards Abelard.

Wide-eyed, Abelard dove onto the floor, hitting the ground hard on his hands and knees.

Nesmay's uncontrolled burst of magic struck the doorway where he'd been standing moments before.

The shop trembled. Then all was still.

Severus began to hope that Nesmay's wild magic had been dissipated by the wards placed over the wandmaker's establishment.

Until a wand box fell off of a shelf onto the floor.

"Ah, well. No harm done," Ollivander said. "I've had worse."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth then another dozen boxes crashed onto the floor. Everyone froze.

Abelard stuck his head up from the floor. "Huh? What the bloody hell?"

There came a groan and a huge crack spread up the side of the doorway and across the wall. It spread up and over the ceiling, widening and causing dust to fall as it did so.

Severus grabbed Ollivander by the arm. "Get out! NOW!"

The old wizard blinked at him. "Severus, it's only a little crack. I can mend it."

Severus shoved him unceremoniously out the door. "Run, idiot!" he shouted to Abelard, then he grabbed Nesmay and Apparated outside.

Just before the roof caved in and half the shop collapsed in ruins.

Abelard emerged from the cloud of dust a moment later, coughing and shivering. "Uncle . . .the shop . . ."

"Is ruined!" Ollivander cried, wringing his hands. "All my wands, all of my years of work . . ." He stood there, looking like a thin scarecrow of a man, distress written all over his features.

Severus remained silent for a few moments, not knowing what to say that could possibly mend the damage his ward had just done. In the space of five minutes, she had reduced a shop that had stood for over a hundred years to a pile of rubble.

He turned to glare at his ward. "Nesmayallindra Highstar, what _have_ you done?"

Only to find that Nesmay was gone.

**Now what should Severus do?**

**Sorry I haven't updated this in awhile, but I've been busy with work and family problems. Please let me know how you liked this. In a few chapters we will return to the fae realm in a most unexpected fashion . . .but on the dark side of it. **


	47. Trouble's Shadow

**47**

**Trouble's Shadow**

"Look at what that . . .that _bloody brat_ did to your shop, Uncle Lucian!" cried Abelard angrily. "Half our stock is probably smashed beyond repair." He glanced about, as several witches and wizards came over to exclaim over the damage. "Where is she? She needs a good whipping—"

Severus glowered at the young man. "I seem to recall you two having an altercation just before Nesmay lashed out at you, young Abelard. What did you say to her to make her angry enough to try and hex you with her new wand?"

Abelard flushed guiltily. "All I said was that I was surprised she had the kingwood choose her, that wood was once only used for royalty, and she was hardly of royal blood. Then she tried to feed me some cock and bull line about how she _was _royalty on her mother's side." Abelard laughed mockingly. "Like I'd ever believe that! I called her a liar and then she attacked me. You really need to teach the brat some manners."

Severus scowled at the other wizard. The arrogant little puppy had some nerve, telling him how to raise his ward! "You need a good dose of manners as well, young man. For your information, calling her a liar was the worst insult you could give her, since she is the granddaughter of the Summer Queen, Titania Highstar of Faerie. No fae or half-fae can speak an untruth. Not that it excuses in any way her behavior, but don't act like you were blameless, boy. You are as much to blame for this disaster as she is, so quit with the innocent act."

Ollivander spun on his nephew, shock and anger etched upon his features. "That little girl is a relative of the Queen of the Seelie?" he coughed. Severus nodded in confirmation.

"Uncle, that's got to be a lie!" Abelard cried. "She didn't look anything like a princess. And she sure as hell didn't act like it."

"What would you know about how a princess looks and acts, you stupid oaf!" Ollivander shouted. "Didn't I tell you to watch your tongue around the customers? Didn't I?" He came and shook his fist in his nephew's face. "Why can't you ever listen to me, you insolent whelp? Now look what you've cost me!"

"Uncle Lucian, it wasn't my fault!" Abelard yelled.

"Don't you lie to me!" Ollivander ordered, and suddenly a stout stick was in his hand, and he began whacking his nephew about the shoulders.

Abelard yelped and cowered, trying to evade the older man's blows, but Ollivander was quicker than he looked, and he chased the obnoxious apprentice across the street, hollering, "I should have done this a long time ago, you wretched puppy!"

Several of the witches and wizards who had gathered to see what had happened to the wand shop clapped and muttered, "It's about time Ollivander put him in his place."

Severus had to agree, and would have stayed to watch the rather amusing spectacle if he hadn't been so concerned over Nesmay. He asked the crowd if they had seen a girl with purple hair like a hedgehog's run past their store recently. But none of them had, which suggested that maybe Nesmay was using glamour to disguise herself. He swore under his breath and set off to find her, telling Ollivander he would be back to settle the debt and help him.

Meanwhile, back in _Quality Quidditch Supplies_, Harry and Draco had just met up with Ron, Fred, and George, who were also there to admire the sleek new broom up for sale. It was called _Cyclone 2010_ and it looked totally amazing.

"Merlin, but what I wouldn't give to own that!" Ron said, staring up at the sleek silvery broom in envy and longing. "It's gorgeous. Isn't it, Harry?"

"Yes. It's almost as good as my Firebolt." Harry said loyally.

"It blows my broom away," said Ron.

"Ours too!" said the twins.

They spent twenty minutes admiring the broom and then Ron drew Harry a little way's away and whispered, "Wait till you hear what went on at the Burrow this past week. Percy came home all full of himself, and he made the big mistake of trying to convince me that I shouldn't be friends with you anymore since you were the son of Severus Snape. I told him where to get off, all right, the arse! Mum heard us fighting and she came in to stop it and heard what Percy said, about you being the worthless son of a queer arrogant sod and how my being your friend was unacceptable."

"What a bloody berk!"

"I know, Harry! Mum went ten kinds of red and I thought she was going to have a stroke, she marched right up to Percy and yelled in his face that he had no right to speak so about you and she was ashamed of him and demanded he write an apology letter to you right away. And when he wouldn't, she took him by the ear, plunked him on a kitchen chair and snapped, _"Percival, don't make me Stick you to a chair!"_ Then she went and lectured him about being a bigot and judging a wizard by his House or the cut of his robes and I swear, Harry, if he'd been younger she would have taken her spoon to his backside."

"He said something similar to me at school, while the tournament was going on," Harry told Ron grimly. "He cornered me on the stairs in Gryffindor Tower and said how since I was the son of a Slytherin I wasn't fit to associate with you and to leave you be."

"He did? Why didn't you tell me? I would've told him to stick it up his arse," Ron said indignantly. "He can't tell me who to be friends with!"

"I guess it slipped my mind, what with everything else going on," Harry said. "I haven't received any letter yet from Percy."

"That's 'cause Mum didn't like the first one he wrote and is making him do it over." Ron said, smirking.

"Percy's always been—" began George.

"—an arrogant ass," finished Fred.

"I couldn't agree more," Draco put in. "No offense, but I've never liked him, even before I became Harry's brother. He was always acting like a pompous ass."

"Look who's talking." Ron bristled slightly. He knew what Draco said was true, Percy _was_ a pompous ass, but Percy was also family.

"Hey, it was _expected_ for me to act like a pompous ass. Lucius drummed that into me before I could crawl. What's your brother's excuse?"

"Brain damage," George said.

"Fell off the bed when he was a baby and it knocked the sense right out of him," Ron explained, grinning. It was an old family joke.

Harry checked his watch. An hour and fifteen minutes had gone by. "Draco, we'd better get going. We're supposed to meet Dad and Nesmay at the wand shop."

"That's the fae cousin you told me about in your letter?" Ron clarified.

"Yeah. She's kind of wild," Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes. "That's like saying a dragon is kind of dangerous."

They bid goodbye to the Weasleys and headed up the street towards Ollivanders.

They had not even gone two feet beyond the Quidditch store when Nesmay appeared out of nowhere and slammed full tilt into Harry.

"What the—Nesmay, what's the matter?" Harry asked, taking the slender fae girl by the shoulders and gripping her hard. He managed to keep his balance and not fall on his arse by sheer luck.

Nesmay stared up at him, her golden eyes full of fear and anger. "Let me go!" She struggled in his grip. "Harry, let me go!"

"Why? What happened? Did you get your wand?"

She felt her right hand jerk up and she waved the wand in front of his face. "Here! See? Here's my wand, and I wish I'd never gotten it. Nothing's changed!" she half-sobbed. "I'm still dangerous, I blew up Ollivander's shop and now your father's going to kill me!"

"You _blew up Ollivanders?_" Draco gasped, staring at her with a mixture of awe and horror.

"How did that happen?" Harry asked gently.

"It . . .his stupid nephew called me a liar and I just . . .he'd been sneering at me the whole time . . .and when he said that I . . .just lost it. I didn't mean to make the whole roof collapse . . ." she looked from Draco back to Harry, misery written in her features.

Draco held up a hand. "Hey, point that wand away from me, if you don't mind. I'd rather not end up in pieces."

Two things happened then.

Nesmay started to cry and Harry socked him one in the arm.

"Draco, sometimes you can be a real prick," Harry growled. "Now look what you've done."

"I wasn't serious . . .well, not really." Draco said sulkily.

Harry patted Nesmay on the back. "Nesmay, it's all right."

She shook her head. "No, it's not. He's never going to forgive me for this. Never!"

"You mean Dad? Or Ollivander?" Harry asked.

Nesmay didn't answer.

"Probably both," Draco said. "Ollivander's got to be having a fit by now. And who knows with Dad . . ." He shuddered. He didn't envy Nesmay, for Severus' temper was legendary, especially when his sons did something to publically embarrass him. And even Harry and he had never done something as terrible as blow up a shop in Diagon Alley. _Merlin help her, but her hands will never be the same after all the laundry she'll be doing the whole summer!_

Nesmay had stepped back and freed herself from Harry, mostly. Harry still had a hand on her shoulder when Severus rounded the corner and saw them.

All three children went pale when they saw the look in the Potion Master's eyes.

Nesmay squeaked and backed up into Harry. Draco thought about conjuring a shovel and digging a hole to hide in until Severus' fury had spent itself. And Harry felt a cold shiver of fear run down his spine. But then he stepped in front of Nesmay, some protective instinct rousing within him.

Severus slowed when he caught sight of them, and relief fluttered through him when he saw that Nesmay was unhurt, but the tender feeling was soon eclipsed by anger. _Merlin blast the girl, but she almost got us all killed! And ruined poor Ollivander's livelihood. Oh, how I want to shake her till her teeth fall out. Or wallop the daylights out of her backside._ Gritting his teeth, he stalked towards them.

To their credit, the three stood their ground and did not flee.

Severus might have appreciated their courage if he hadn't been so very angry. "Don't you _ever _run away like that again, Nesmay!" he growled, feeling his own magic crackle and hiss in response to his temper. "Do you have any concept what your little outburst has done? Do you?"

"Yes, _Amarsi,_" she answered from behind Harry.

"Harry, move out of my way!" he snapped.

"No, Dad," Harry said, a slight quiver in his voice. "You don't want to do this now."

"What the blazes? What do you mean, I don't want to do this now?"

Harry gulped, for he had never seen Severus like this before, not even when he'd been caught after drinking the green beer. But he faced his father squarely, ignoring the quiver in his knees. "I mean you don't want to punish Nesmay when you're angry. You need to calm down, Dad."

Draco marveled at his brother's sheer courage . . .and sheer stupidity. There were times when he wondered if Harry had _any_ sense of self-preservation at all. Only a fool challenged Severus in a temper. A fool . . .or his son, who knew that his father would suffer pangs of guilt were he allowed to let his temper rule him. So Draco said, "How bad was the damage, Dad? Was it . . .all destroyed?"

"No, but it's definitely going to take weeks maybe months to fix it and the wands that were damaged." Severus answered, still glaring at Nesmay. "I would have thought you had more courage than this, young lady, to hide behind your cousin."

"Dad, you're scaring her," Harry said.

Severus fought down the urge to cuff his insolent son. How dare he interfere with his discipline of his ward? The girl was out of control, she deserved to be frightened, apparently she had not learned her lesson even after doing chores for half the day, since after one bloody insult she flew off the handle. "Give me your wand, Nesmayallindra," he ordered. "You can't be trusted with it right now."

Nesmay looked at him pleadingly and then tossed him her wand.

Severus caught it neatly. His longing to strangle and spank her at the same time was slowly leaving him. He took a deep breath, fighting to regain his splintered control. He looked down at Harry and suddenly wondered just how he must have looked for his son to suddenly become Sir Galahad and think of his own father as a threat. Was he really that intimidating when he was angry?

He took a slight step back and said, "We need to go home now. I shall owl Ollivander and work out a payment schedule for the damages. Or something else." He indicated that they should all grasp his sleeves, or each other, because he had to Apparate them all back to the Lonely Moor and the Endless Mist.

Once they had done so, he concentrated and then they vanished.

Home again, Severus felt the familiar soothing touch of the land and his temper quieted somewhat. Enough so he ordered Nesmay to her room and then retreated to his study instead of raising a hand to her. But it was a close thing, and he didn't realize how close until he saw the relief in Harry's green eyes just before he spun about and went through the study door.

He walked to the desk and sat down, Harry's words echoing in his head. _You don't want to punish when you're angry . . .you need to calm down . . ._Severus took a deep breath. In order to be calm, he had to find his center, find the core of his being where he felt safe and surrounded by the glistening walls of his power, power he'd worked hard to tame, that had not come easily to heel either when he was an adolescent. _But I mastered it, and so must she. Except I don't think she's even trying. She is trouble's shadow and I am failing her as a teacher. _His perfectionist soul cringed at the admission, but it was the truth. What had happened today should not have occurred. _I should have sent her from the shop as soon as the wand had chosen. I should have been watching that little creep Abelard more closely. I should have taken the wand and put it away . . ._

He stared at the kingwood wand atop his desk and thought about how the whole story would be in the bloody papers tomorrow, and then everyone would see what a failure he was as a teacher. Even Longbottom melting cauldrons hadn't been this bad. And he wondered for the first time if Titania had not played a cruel joke on him, saddling him with such a student, who flouted his authority with no thought of the consequences. But maybe the consequences just hadn't been harsh enough. _Nearly dying of magical drain wasn't harsh enough?_ His conscience mocked him silently.

_Severus, you seem troubled. Might I ask what is going on?_ A quiet voice spoke in his mind, accompanied by an otherworldly chill.

The Potions Master looked up and saw his ancestor, the first half-blood Prince, standing before him in all his ghostly majesty. Unlike the majority of ghosts at Hogwarts, Sev Prince was not translucent, he appeared exactly as he had in life, save for a wavering about the edges of his form. Severus suspected it had to do with his being a Guardian of the manor, that the ghost drew upon the land's power, and could manifest as almost solid. He had seen the ghost a handful of times since becoming Heir and whenever the elder Prince came to him, it was important.

"My Lord Prince," he greeted respectfully.

The ghost flashed him a lopsided smile. _Sev,_ he corrected with infinite patience. _Someday I am going to break you of that formality, young Snape, and have you address me as a friend or relative should. Titles are for guests and strangers, you are neither, Severus. Now tell me what is bothering you. I haven't seen you this agitated since last year, when your son was having those terrible nightmares._

"You knew about them?"

_Of course. I didn't come to you then because the shimmerling was handling it. Had she not appeared and been saved, then I would have come and offered what help I could. But usually it is best if the living solve their own problems._ The ghost took a seat in midair, one eyebrow cocked.

Severus hesitated. He hated admitting his shortcomings, especially to one he admired.

_We all make mistakes, Severus. I made plenty of them as a youth. I still do. _Sev Prince encouraged. _Talk to me. Maybe I can help._

Severus heaved a sigh. "Very well. Doubtless you know about my new addition to the household . . .?"

_Lady Nesmayallindra Highstar, Titania's unwanted bastard granddaughter, who carries the blood of Tom Riddle in her veins, and has inherited his magic as well as fae glamour. Aye, I feel her presence in the astral, like a thunderstorm waiting to break._

"A thunderstorm. An apt description. The storm has broken however, figuratively and literally." Severus told the ghost what had occurred since Nesmay's arrival and the latest debacle with the wandshop. He even admitted how he had been in such a temper that his own son felt she needed protection from his wrath.

_Sometimes our children save us from ourselves,_ the Prince ghost said. _Your son knows you very well, to so dare your wrath._

"No student, not even Harry at his most impulsive, has ever made me so angry . . .if he hadn't been there I . . .don't know what I would have done . . .no, I _do_ know what I would have done . . .the same thing my father did to me as a child . . .Merlin help me . . . I am not fit to teach her, my Lord. If I cannot control my own temper around her, how the bloody blazes can I teach her to control hers and her magic? Titania warned me it would be difficult, but I never expected this!"

_You feel overwhelmed. You were unprepared when you agreed to Titania's offer. And so was she. From what I'v_e _observed, that little girl has a lot of anger and resentment bottled up within her. Her family has not treated her well, and now she feels as if they have gotten rid of her. Tossed her away into the mortal realm and have done with her. So she rebels. I myself don't know half as much about wizard magic as I ought to, since I only inherited the fae magics, but isn't strong emotion often a trigger for your sort of power?_

"Yes. But the wand helps focus that uncontrolled power. Except in Nesmay's case."

Sev Prince chuckled. _She does have a temper. Like her mother. And her father as well. Perhaps you need to start at the very beginning, Severus. Teach her how to control that temper and then work on her magic. _

"I . . .yes, I should have thought of that before. What an idiot I am!"

_Don't be so hard on yourself. Sometimes you are too close to a matter to see all the alternatives. That's why it helps to have a friend's perspective. Here is something else I picked up from her. She believes that you will grow to hate her eventually and treat her accordingly._

"Hate her? I don't hate her, I'm just . . .angry and disappointed and frustrated with her . . .exceedingly so, but I don't **hate** her. Why does she think that way?"

_You'll have to ask her that, Severus. I only know glimpses that I catch from her thoughts. My suggestion to you is to go and talk with her before you issue any kind of punishment. Sometimes in order to fix a problem you need to go back to the past._

"Speaking of punishments . . .how should I handle this? My first impulse was to haul her over my knee and wallop the daylights out of her, but perhaps that's not such a good idea . . ."

_No. Never punish in anger, for you only end up regretting it later. My father made that mistake with me. _Sev Prince said ruefully. _Correct me if I'm wrong, but you only use corporal punishment as a last resort, yes? A wise decision. It is too easy to lose control using that method all the time, and then you become what you fear the most. Your abusive father and grandfather. _

"That is why I hardly ever use it."

_And when you do, you detest yourself for it,_ said the ghost. _The fae are like you in that way, Severus. As a child, I received a single thrashing, and that my father regretted till the day he died. But that's not important now. A good punishment should make a child learn from her mistakes. As a parent, I always tried to do that. Here is what I think you ought to do . . ._

Severus listened to his ancestor's advice, and found it to be excellent. He tended to forget that the ghost, who usually appeared as a young man, had also once been a parent. Sev Prince also had the experience of centuries to draw on, rather than the paltry thirteen or so years Severus had.

"Thank you. I hadn't thought of that."

_Anytime, Sev. You don't have to bear every burden alone, you know. I'm here to help and give advice. All you need to do is stuff your pride behind your teeth, my fine serpent, and ask. Family helps family._

"I shall try and remember that. I am not used to asking for help . . .I was taught to rely on myself . . ."

_Ah, the old Prince independence. I fear I have my share of it, _laughed the ghost. _Nevertheless, I am here whenever you need to talk about anything._ _But now you need to speak with your wild child, Severus. I believe she has disregarded your instructions and gone to hide in an oak tree._

"She _what_?" Severus sputtered. "Bloody hell!" He rose to his feet and hurried out of the study.

HSSSDMHS

Nesmay could not bear the closed in feeling of her room any longer. She had been waiting for Severus to come up and give her hell for an hour, and the waiting was driving her insane. She felt like a prisoner waiting for the axe to fall, or the whip, or whatever her teacher had chosen to punish her with. She had heard all the stories told in whispers among her cousins about how brutally mortals punished their children, whipping them black and blue, leaving them to starve in closets. She had not really believed them, until Ironhand had told her that he had seen such things for himself, the last time he had walked upon mortal soil, though he had not told her that had been centuries ago. Seeing Snape's face this afternoon, she had been sure she was going to end up beaten to death. But Harry had saved her, she hoped he would not get in trouble for it.

She was sorry she had caused so much trouble for her cousins, sorry that she was nothing more than worthless half-breed, born to be trouble's shadow, as Ironhand and Oberon had always told her. _There is an evil in you, girl, a darkness you have inherited from your tainted mortal father. I can see it in you, just as Lord Oberon said. Someday you shall turn to the dark, far better the Queen had sent you to dwell in the Winter Court, amid others of your kind, rather than saddle herself with you. You, pitiful half-breed, who isn't worth the effort it takes to pound manners and learning into your stubborn skull._

She had hated Ironhand for saying such things, but lately she wondered if he hadn't been right. This witch's magic she had inherited seemed all destructive, the most inoffensive thing she had done was make a light. And then she had gone and blown up an entire shop full of wands, the very thing that wizards needed to practice their craft. She suspected she might have blown up their Minister's palace and it wouldn't have been considered half so bad. What kind of witch did that, even by accident?

_A dark witch. One destined to destroy people. _She hugged herself about her middle, feeling tears prickle her eyes. _Uncle Oberon was right. I don't belong with the royal family, or any family. I don't know why Grandmother didn't ship me off to Maeve at birth, or drown me like a vicious boggart. I need to get away. It won't matter if I run, Cousin Severus won't want me around anymore, not after this._

Feeling utterly wretched and longing to return home, she climbed out her window. She ran as far as she could towards the woods, then tried to call a Gate, the way she had seen her older relatives do. But she had spent her mortal magic, and she had never learned to use her fae magic to summon Gates yet. Her attempt failed, and left her gasping and in pain. She sank to her knees beneath a large oak tree, sobbing, her face pressed against the rough bark.

Some instinct of self-preservation urged her to climb the tree, and after a moment she did so, easily as a squirrel, for she was naturally agile. Soon she was ensconced in the oak's sheltering branches, a glamour of Unseeing woven tight about her. _You're safe now. Nothing will find you. _

But once again she was wrong.

Some ten minutes after she had climbed the oak, she heard light footsteps coming across the grass, and a familiar silky voice calling her name.

She remained utterly still and silent, yet somehow he found her anyway.

He peered up into the tree branches and called, "Nesmay, I know you're up there. I can feel you through the earth bond. Come down, we need to talk."

Nesmay snorted. _Talk, ha! Does he think I'm stupid? I know perfectly well what he wants to do with me, and it doesn't involve talking at all._ She remained where she was, still holding the veil over herself, though she was feeling more and more exhausted.

Severus could feel her magic dwindling through the bond. "Nesmay, if you won't come down, at least drop your shields. You've drained your magic again, don't make it worse by using more magic."

Still no response.

"Dammit, girl, do you _want_ to kill yourself?"

"No, but I'm not stupid either. If I cancel the veil, then you'll use magic to pull me out of the tree and whip me."

Severus sighed, reigning in his temper. "Child, I promise I won't use magic upon you. Just release the veil. You can stay in the tree if you feel better doing so. Just drop the veil."

She hesitated. "You're angry. I can tell."

"Yes, but I'm not going to hit you."

"All right." She dismissed the veil and was now visible among the foliage.

"Better," Severus looked up at her. "What are you doing here instead of in your room?"

"I need air and light, not to be trapped in four walls," she told him.

Severus seated himself at the base of the tree. He had not realized he had frightened her so badly that she felt the need to hide from him. _You idiot, Snape! Now look at the mess you've created. _"I see. As I said, I wish to talk with you, both about today's mishap and a few other things. I fear that I have rushed you into training, throwing too much at you too soon. What is it that makes you so angry, child? Is it me? Or something else?"

"What do you care about it?" she snapped, suddenly made bold by the fact that he could not reach her. The resentment had been festering within her for days and now it burst. "You were hired to take me off my grandmother's hands. I know she said it was a favor, but no favor the Queen asks comes without a price. She wanted me out of the way, far from her court, so that I did not disrupt the nobles with my . . .half-breed presence," she sneered bitterly. "She knows Oberon hates me, and he's her heir, she has to keep him sweet. And what am I but a half-breed bastard, the shame of her House? She sent me here to be rid of me! Deny _that_ if you can, Master Sorcerer!" Her breath was catching now, as she struggled to keep from sobbing, rejection squeezing her heart until it bled from the pain.

He heard the pain in the ragged edges of her voice and he could not help but respond to it. Severus Prince had been right. She felt she was an outcast, unwanted and unloved. Just as a certain Slytherin had felt at that age. "Nesmay, I do not think your grandmother intended this to be an exile. She wished to help you, and she felt that it was best for you if you came here so that you could learn how to control your magic. I don't believe she is ashamed of you. Is being here so unpleasant?"

"No, but . . .she didn't even _ask_ me! She just commanded, because then I couldn't refuse. She hardly ever lets me come to court, not that I really care but . . .my cousins come and go as they please and I . . .I have to be invited. Otherwise, I stay at Graystone, hidden away like a crazy old maid!"

"I would say that perhaps the Queen wishes you to be away from all the gossip and backstabbing that goes on there. It's no place for a young impressionable lady. I happen to agree with that. I would not permit my sons at court either, not till they were of age and able to make sound decisions. She is concerned for your welfare, as any grandmother would be."

"I don't believe you!" she sniffled. "Oberon always said it was my fault that my mother died, and she was Gran's favorite daughter. So why wouldn't she want me gone from her realm?"

"Your uncle is a bloody idiot, to condemn you for something that was not your fault!" Severus said angrily. "I always thought the fae cherished all their children, no matter if they were full or half-bloods. I suppose there are exceptions to everything, however. But not in Titania's case. Child, I believe she loves you because you are her last living link to the daughter she lost. But if you want proof, write to her and ask her to confirm what I said."

"What if she won't answer me?" the girl asked in a small voice.

"You will never know unless you write to her." Severus urged, thinking angrily that Titania could have saved him a great deal of heartache if she had bothered to discuss her reasons for sending Nesmay to Prince Manor before they departed.

"I suppose so. But she still wanted to betroth me to that scummy Prince Jarillion. Why would she do that unless she believes what Oberon always said about me?"

"What did Oberon say about you?" Severus asked warily. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what she said.

"That I'm evil and bound to come to a bad end. That's why I belong in Winter instead of Summer. So that the evil that lives in me won't taint my family. That I am my father's daughter in all ways. When my witch power started showing itself, do you know what he said to me? He said, so I was right, and the bastard shows her true colors. And that's what you believe too, isn't it? You think I'm evil just like _him_!"

"I do not. That is ridiculous, Nesmay. You may be Tom Riddle's daughter by blood, but you are _nothing_ like him, child."

"How do you know that? How do you _know_?"

"Because I served Voldemort once. I was a spy, and I stood at his right hand and saw him destroy with his magic. He almost killed my son when he was a baby. I know the face of evil, Nesmay. And you do not wear it, nor can you inherit it. Your father made his own choice to travel the dark path. He _chose_ to become a tyrant. Evil is a choice, Nesmay. A choice you do not have to make."

He could hear her weeping softly. He cursed her callus uncle in his head. His blind stupidity and hate had nearly ruined the girl.

"I-I don't want to be like him," she cried, tears dripping down her face. "But my magic . . .every time I use it I end up destroying something . . .I can't help it . . ."

"You can, young lady. You have the will to do so. Your magic reacts to your emotions. Learn to control your temper and you will master your magic. Like I did."

"You're not just saying that?"

"No. I swear it upon my wand." Severus told her firmly. "Come down from there, my lady. I do not like having conversations with trees. And there is still the matter of your explosion of Ollivanders to discuss."

She poked her head out of the branches. "I'm sorry. But if that puke-faced troll hadn't called me a liar, I wouldn't have lost my temper."

"That is no excuse. Have you never been called such before by your cousins? Yes, it is insulting, but there was no reason for you to try and fry the boy. There is an old saying among my people—_sticks and stones may break my bones, but names can never hurt me._ Unless you allow them to. Consider the source, a spoiled brat, and then disregard it, because he's nothing more than a yappy pain-in-the-arse who deserves a good licking."

She almost smiled at him. His wit was rapier-sharp, but it reminded her of her grandmother's. "Am I in trouble?"

"What do you think?" he asked, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest. "You destroyed a man's living with your temper, young lady. Years of work. Do you not think that you owe some recompense?"

She nodded reluctantly. She just wished said restitution would not be coming out of her hide.

"It will do you no good to stay up there. The consequences shall be the same now as later. Better to face them now and have done with it, my lady."

She looked into his eyes then, and saw that the rage that had possessed him before was absent. What she saw in them was determination, and she had the feeling that he would stay under the tree all night until she gave in. The Princes were known for their stubbornness. "I'm not a lady, sir. Uncle Oberon says—"

"Do not quote anything that pompous jackass says to me. You have the blood of queens and kings in your veins, Nesmayallindra and that makes you a lady in my book. Even if you don't always behave like one."

Her eyes went misty with tears. He was the only one who had ever given her the honorific, in all of the queen's court, she had been the forgotten misfit, born on the wrong side of the blanket, sired by a wicked mortal. She had never been accepted at court, not even by the queen. Only Severus truly accepted her, all of her, she realized with a burst of gratitude. "You do me too much honor, my Lord Prince."

Severus snorted. "Thank me later. Well?"

Nesmay made up her mind. She didn't care if he _did_ beat her black and blue. As her teacher and her relative, he had that right. She was a lady, she could handle the consequences. She walked back to the trunk of the oak and slid down it as quickly as she had gone up, her feet touching the ground in five minutes.

Severus watched in astonishment. The girl climbed like a bloody squirrel!

Nesmay turned around, holding a slender branch in her hands. She took a breath and said evenly, "I'm ready, sir. Just . . .please don't beat me too hard." She thrust the switch at him.

Severus had intended to put a hand on her shoulder, he had been reaching out to touch her when she turned about and handed him the stick. His hand closed reflexively over it before he realized what he was about. Then he stared at it in revulsion. "You wish me to beat you?"

"No, but . . .isn't that how you mortals punish children who misbehave?" she asked, honestly puzzled.

"Who told you that?" he demanded sharply.

"My tutor, Master Ironhand, said all mortals punish their children thus. That it was customary here."

"Some parents may use such methods," Severus said, glaring down at the switch. "I never have. Nor will I ever." He longed to go and find that damned tutor of hers and beat him black and blue, the lying bugger.

"I'm not afraid, sir. You can't be any worse than Ironhand."

"_He_ beat you?"

She nodded. "Many times. He said it was the only discipline someone like me understood."

"Titania knew of this?"

"No, sir. Not at first. Not till Uncle Oberon bragged to her one day that Ironhand's discipline was the only thing keeping me in line. Then the next day Ironhand was gone, and there was a new dwarf fountain in the queen's garden. Uncle Oberon was furious. He called me a spoiled rotten brat and said someday Gran would rue the day she raised me. After that, I had no tutor. Until you."

"Sounds like your grandmother didn't agree with him. Neither do I." Severus promptly broke the switch in half. "The only thing a switch is good for is kindling for a fire. And I have enough of that." He tossed the pieces away.

"You're not going to beat me?"

"For the love of Merlin, child, _no_! I might be an intimidating bastard, but I don't beat my students. Or my children."

"Not even when they blow up wand shops?"

"Not even then." He smiled wolfishly. "I have something _much_ worse than a beating in mind for you, my temperamental lady. Something which I pray will finally teach you a lesson about controlling your temper and understanding your magic."

"Are you going to hex me then?"

Severus' eyes blazed. "Did the rotten bastard do that to you also?"

"No. For he had not the craft. But my uncle often threatened to." She gazed up at him with wide gold eyes, then she lowered her eyes to the ground.

"I will neither beat nor hex you. _First,_ I will give you lessons in meditation. They are extremely boring and tedious, just ask my sons. You will most likely be bored to tears, but that's too bad. Meditation is the key to controlling that temper of yours. You will have lessons every night. _Then_ we shall return to Diagon Alley and you shall give Lucian Ollivander a formal apology and offer him your services in repairing his wands and his shop. You shall work for him for four hours every afternoon until his shop has been restored, the whole summer if necessary. He is a master wandmaker, and perhaps learning how to make wands will help you to focus your magic better. Making wands is very time consuming, and should keep you occupied enough to keep you out of mischief. I shall make sure Abelard stays away from you, now quit looking at me like that. And last, you will also be doing the laundry here at the manor, without magic, for scaring me half to death when you disappeared like that. Never _ever _run away like that again, do you understand?" He reached out and shook her hard, until her teeth chattered.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry I made you worry."

"You damn well ought to be." He growled.

"But I didn't think you'd care if I was gone, after what I did, I thought you'd be glad to see the back of me."

"You thought—you foolish little witch-child—if I had wanted to see the back of you, I would have booted you out the door myself! If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't have wasted all this time talking to you, now would I?"

Then he hugged her.

Nesmay was so shocked that she froze. Then the sensation of his arms holding her close registered in her brain and she buried her face in his soft robes and began to cry. She cried for a long time, nestled against him, unable to resist the comfort he offered, even if she thought she didn't deserve it. "Forgive me?"

"Yes, yes, you're forgiven." He patted her back rather awkwardly, and ruffled her spiked hair. "There now, you silly hedgehog princess. If I'd wanted a bath I'd have jumped into the pond."

His words had the desired effect upon her—they made her stop crying and snicker instead. "Hedgehog princess? Is that what you think of me?"

He coughed, embarrassed. "Yes, if you must know. Your hair reminds me of a hedgehog's quills and you have the same prickly nature."

"But I'm not a princess."

He glowered at her. "Are we back to that again? You are if I say you are, and there's an end to it."

She grinned up at him, her familiar mischievous smile. "And shall I take your word over my uncle's, though he is a prince and you're not?"

"Of course you should. And _I _am a Prince too, and don't you forget it. Besides, he's an arrogant jackass that needs a bridle put on his tongue."

"Yes, sir."

"Here. Blow your nose, a lady shouldn't drip like a leaky faucet." He handed her a handkerchief.

She obeyed, honking like a foghorn.

"Blessed Merlin!" he sputtered. "Has no one ever taught you any manners?"

"They tried, sir. It didn't take too well." Her lips quivered.

"May Merlin be merciful!"

"Having second thoughts?" she teased.

"Second, third, _and_ fourth ones," he shot back. "But don't get any ideas, young lady. You're stuck with me for the rest of the summer." He shook a finger at her.

She sighed. "Really? Because I was rather hoping that—"

"You could escape my endless chores by hiding out in the forest?"

"—I could stay longer," she finished. "Because I rather like it here, even if you are a terrible nasty grouch."

"I'm _what_?"

She danced out of reach, giggling. "But then, so are most ebony mambas when you scare them awake," she said impudently, naming a kind of fae snake, one that had a deadly bite but was also extremely loyal to those it called friends. Then she scampered across the grass towards the manor.

Severus shook his head and muttered, "Impudent brat! I ought to tan her hide for that. Whoever said girls were easier to raise than boys was out of their bloody mind. Why am I always the one saddled with the mouthy needy students?"

_Because, Severus Snape, you are the one who understands them best,_ answered Prince Manor's Guardian.

"Humph!" was all Severus said, before striding rapidly across the lawn to the house, a half-smile quirking up the side of his mouth. There wasn't much to say to refute that statement, so Snape simply kept silent.

And prayed that the manor would survive his hedgehog princess's growing pains.

**I would just like to thank everyone who has reviewed, read, and favorited this story. You are all awesome!**

**That said, I want to let you know it might be awhile till I update again, because I have to finish working on But For A Dog before October, since it's going to be a present for my sister for her birthday. I apologize for the delay and hope you'll understand. In the meantime, you could read But For A Dog if you'd like, or Irresistible Chemistry, which I have recently updated as well. **


	48. Making Reparations

**48**

**Making Reparations**

"How's the laundry coming, Nesmay?" Draco asked casually, leaning up against the large oak tree where the clothesline was fastened.

Nesmay grimaced as she hung up another of the boys' shirts. "Sun, Moon, and Stars, but the clothes are ten times heavier when they're wet."

Draco nodded. "Tell me about it." Then he glanced at the pile of laundry in the basket. "Hey. Those are sopping wet. Did you forget to wring them out?"

Nesmay cocked her head. "Wring them out?"

"Yeah with the wringing part of the washing machine. They'll take hours to dry else."

Nesmay put a hand to her mouth in dismay. "Oh no! I forgot! Now what do I do?"

Draco could have been mean and told her to learn from her mistake, but he knew what a dreadful chore it was to do the laundry by hand, and so he took pity on her. "Relax, Nessie. This once, I'll help you." He pointed his wand and most of the water was wring out of the clothes. "There! See the difference?"

Nesmay lifted one of Severus' shirts. "Yes. This feels much lighter now. I'm in your debt, Draco. But don't call me Nessie."

"Why not? Nessie sounds more friendly." Draco teased.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "It makes me sound like a cow, Draco Malfoy!"

"Moo-oo!" he mocked, then danced away when she flicked the end of a shirt at his backside. "Nice try, little hedgehog."

She glowered at him. "Go away, won't you? You're making me mess up my schedule. Look at all the laundry I still have to hang up."

"I see it. Sucks getting in trouble, doesn't it?"

Nesmay rolled her eyes. "Brilliant deduction, cousin. Now, get!" she shooed him off with a hand towel.

Laughing softly, he Summoned his broom and flew away. The fae girl sighed and continued finishing her chore. By the time the summer was over, she was sure she would know all there was to know about doing laundry and would probably be the only fae princess in history able to wash her own clothes. _I feel like that cinder girl in that old tale mortals used to tell. Except she was treated like a slave and I earned this._ She pinned a sheet on the line, which was magicked so it never grew full and always had room for one more. Then she thought rebelliously, _But I don't have to like it!_

She felt the familiar prickle of her magic stirring and drew in a deep breath, breathing in and out slowly. Severus had started showing her last night how to focus her breathing and find her center, as was proper with meditation. He had explained that she needn't keep her feelings all bottled up, which would lead to wild bursts of anger and frustration, but she did need to take a look at those emotions and think about what she could do to calm down and release them in a controlled manner.

_Calm down. Calm down. Go back to sleep,_ she silently urged her wayward magic. Several deep breaths later, she had succeeded in sending her magic back to sleep. She breathed a sigh of relief and recalled something else her mentor had told her. "Learning to control that flyaway temper of yours will be one of the hardest things you will ever have to master. It may take you years. But every attempt you make will lead you closer to mastery, so never give up. Even if at times you fail, and you will, fo_r _no one is perfect, never give up."

She had looked him in the eye and promised she never would. She meant to keep that promise, so he would be proud of her. She desperately longed for someone to be proud of her. Especially since lately all she seemed to do was make mistakes. The debacle with the wand shop had been the worst one ever, and she knew if her grandmother ever learned of it she would be disgusted with her granddaughter.

Severus had suggested that she write to the queen and ask her the reason why she had sent Nesmay to Prince Manor, and reassure herself that the queen still wanted her as a family member. Nesmay still had not written it. She did not know if she would ever have the courage to do so. The queen could not lie, and what if her answer was not one Nesmay wanted to hear?

She resolutely pushed away the anxiety fluttering in her belly and shook out Harry's trousers and hung them up. There was one good thing about doing the laundry, and that was it gave her time to practice her meditation.

_I will learn to control my temper. I will. And then he'll be proud of me._

_The next morning:_

Harry woke up early, as the dawn was breaking, so he could fly out over the orchard and gather the merlinnas from the trees. The dawn was his favorite time, because he could feel the land slowly awakening from its night's rest. The flowers opened their petals and the green shoots surged towards the sun and the sap rose in the trees, quickening them. He could feel everything stirring and blooming, especially the merlinnas, which grew only when the land and its heirs were at peace.

Hedwig hooted sleepily from her perch near his window and her gently scratched her head and murmured a good morning to her before hopping on the Firebolt and flying out the window. He circled the orchard, hovering over the merlinna trees, carefully harvesting the purple and red heart-shaped fruits. He set them inside a soft leather carry-sack and moved on to the next tree.

He saw a pretty thrush fly by and another smaller bluebird poke its head out from the branches of a peach tree. A squirrel raced up the trunk of an oak tree and a small fallow deer stepped delicately across the grass to drink from the pond. Harry enjoyed watching the wildlife and stayed hovering on his broom observing them as the sun slowly crept up into the sky.

Finally, after watching a fox and her kits stalking a mouse for a few minutes, he turned and dipped down to harvest the last merlinna tree for the morning. Only to discover someone else had claimed that particular tree for their own.

Nesmay was sitting in the top branches, cradled easily in the fork of the tree, her face smeared with telltale reddish-purple juice, a half-eaten merlinna in her hand. She gave him a guilty little grin and took another bite out of the fruit, uncaring that the juice was running down her soft peach-colored tunic.

Harry noted that she was also wearing leather trousers and was barefoot. "Hiya. You're up early." He waved at her, flying about the tree and picking the merlinnas casually.

"I couldn't sleep." She admitted, nibbling nervously on her bottom lip. "And then I smelled the merlinnas and I just had to come out and eat some. They're the best when they're right off the tree."

"I know," Harry chuckled, though he could hardly make fun of her passion for them when he shared it as well. He had already eaten three of them. "Merlinnas are like manna from heaven."

"Mmm," she answered, eating the rest of the fruit.

"You nervous about today?" Harry asked knowingly. Today was the day when Nesmay went back to Diagon Alley to apologize to Ollivander and work in his shop, making repairs and fixing the wands she had damaged.

"A little." Harry shot her a glance. "All right, a lot. I've heard that mortals can be very . . .vindictive, especially when somebody has just destroyed their living."

"The same could be said about some of your kin, Nesmay."

"Like my uncle, aye, I know it." Nesmay admitted.

"But Ollivander's not like that," Harry said. "He's the kindest old wizard I know. I've never even heard him raise his voice. When Dad told me what he did to his nephew I was really surprised. Not that the big prat didn't deserve it for teasing you like that, but still . . .don't be scared of Ollivander. He's not going to hold a grudge, not over some accidental magic. He knows you couldn't help it, that you were provoked."

"I hope so. I feel terrible that I wrecked his shop. Now what will you wizards do for wands?"

"Well, I don't think you destroyed all his stock. Some of it probably survived and he knows how to repair a wand for those that can be repaired. He probably has some extra wood and stuff too, I mean, the shop didn't catch on fire, so the supplies could be rescued. Some, at least. And Ollivander is a popular shopkeeper, he'll have friends and neighbors to help him sort through the ruins and salvage what he can."

"You think so?"

Harry nodded. "All those Diagon Alley owners stick together. Just ask Dad."

"Won't _they_ be mad at me?"

"Maybe, but I'd say they're probably more miffed at Abelard, since he made you lose your temper. He's an adult, he ought to know better."

"I hope I don't have to be anywhere near him. I might turn him into a frog."

"Can you do that?"

"If I get really angry, I might be able to. Transforming is one of the big fae magics, and the royal family can do it easy as blinking, most times. But I've never done it."

"Well, don't go and try experimenting now," Harry advised.

"I won't. That's the last thing Ollivander needs, a nephew who ribbets and hops on all fours."

Harry snickered. "Might be a change for the better." Then he grinned. "Just kidding. You'll be okay, Ollivander's not a hardarse like Dad. Don't worry, Nessie, your face will freeze like that."

She groaned. "Not you too! Did Draco tell you I hate that ridiculous name?"

"No. Why? I think it's cute."

"Cute? I am _not_ cute! I can shoot a bow and track and I know _kin-sa-dor_. Captain Valinek taught me." Nesmay said indignantly. "I don't do _cute_!"

"No? You sure look cute when you're mad," Harry teased.

She almost stomped her foot on the branch. "_Harry_!"

Her cousin gave her a roguish smirk. He enjoyed teasing the girl, as he imagined that this would be how it would be with a younger sibling. "Come on, kid. Let's go have some breakfast. You don't want to go and grovel on an empty stomach."

He ducked a tiny hard peach she threw at him. "Harry Snape, I do _not_ grovel!"

"Whatever, Nessie." He flew away, laughing.

Nesmay glared at him. Boys! They were so annoying!

_That afternoon_

_Diagon Alley:_

"Lucian, my ward has something she wishes to say to you," Severus said to the wandmaker, his hands resting firmly upon Nesmay's shoulders, as if fearful she might bolt.

"Indeed?" the aging wandmaker raised one bushy eyebrow. "Let's hear it then." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

Nesmay cleared her throat and gathered her courage. "I wish to tell you that I am deeply sorry I destroyed your shop, Master Ollivander. I should have controlled my temper and my magic better, sir. I would like to help make amends in any way I can, sir. Will you please forgive me?" She gazed up at him with earnest golden eyes.

Ollivander could tell she was sincere, and his heart melted. He had been furious a few days before, despairing of ever recovering his business, until some of his colleagues and friends had helped him remove over half the debris and reveal that the damage, while considerable, was not quite as bad as he feared. They had helped him restore half the shop, enough so he could mend the wands that were broken and craft new ones. The shop would be closed for two or three months, but he would eventually re-open his doors.

"Aye, lass, I forgive you. You young ones always have a time controlling your emotions, 'till you attend school, that is. And besides, my fool of a nephew provoked you."

"Where _is_ your nephew, Lucian?" asked Severus pointedly.

"I've sent him down to Kent, to cut more wood for my wands. So he won't be annoying your lass any more, Mr. Snape and we'll have no more repeats like the last time, aye?"

"No, sir." Nesmay said quietly.

"That's the spirit!" Ollivander clapped her lightly on the shoulder. "Well then, let me show you what you'll be doing for the next four hours, my lady. . . " He turned and looked at Severus. "Mr. Snape, I'll have her sign off at four o'clock. You can pick her up then."

"Thank you, Lucian, for allowing her to learn from you. I'm sure she appreciates the opportunity." He handed the wandmaker a small cloth bag with some Galleons in it. "For your shop."

Ollivander coughed and looked uncomfortable. "Mr. Snape, I really shouldn't accept this . . .I mean, your ward's time is one thing—"

"Think of it as a donation," Severus said simply. He turned to go, adding over his shoulder, "Mind your manners, young lady. I shall see you at four." Then he Apparated away.

Ollivander led her into the partially restored shop. The front of the shop didn't look too bad, it had the doorway and the window restored and the roof was partially fixed too. The sign was crooked and another larger board was stuck to the door that read—**CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS**.

Inside the shop, new floorboards gleamed in places and the old counter had been mended, though there was a large crack that had been sealed with filler across the counter. A single cabinet stood with the seventy-five wands that had survived the unexpected explosion. Boxes and crates were everywhere and they all held various pieces of wood and chisels and wood polish and other things Ollivander used in crafting his wands.

The back of the shop was still a dirt floor and had a tarp stretched across the place where the roof had been, spelled to keep out the rain. The walls here were partially covered with wood paneling, in other spots the plaster showed through. Piles of wooden boards were stacked in a corner as were fragments of a desk and boxes of parchment.

"Old receipts and records of wand combinations," Ollivander explained at her curious glance. "I lost quite a bit when the roof caved in, but not everything. Luckily, the most expensive wands were in a protective glass case, and so they didn't come to any harm when the roof collapsed. But most of my other wands were damaged, some beyond repair, and so was my workshop, here in the back." He gestured to the dirt floor and the tarp covered area. "But it could have been worse."

"I'm sorry, Master Ollivander."

"So you've said. No need to repeat it, girl." The wandmaker said gruffly. "Now then, I need to be fixing up this portion of my shop so I can start crafting again. While I'm doing that, I want you to start sorting the wood for me. Here are boxes with different lengths of wood—oak, hazel, rowan, maple, holly, ebony, yew, and so forth." He indicated each kind of wood in turn. "What I need you to do is to find the wood that feels right for a wand."

"How do I do that, sir?" Nesmay asked. "I've never held a wand until recently."

"Do you have the kingwood with you?"

"Yes, sir." She withdrew her wand from her belt holder.

"Good. Now, don't do anything but hold it in your hand." Ollivander instructed. "Close your eyes and feel the wand. Not just with your fingers, but with your heart."

Nesmay did as he had ordered, feeling very foolish. What did Ollivander mean, feel the wand with her heart? "I don't understand, sir. How can I feel a wand with my heart?"

"By opening yourself up to the magic within." The wandmaker explained patiently. "When the kingwood chose you, it did so because your magic resonated with it. All you have to do to feel that connection is to concentrate a bit."

Nesmay did so, and felt a warmth spread through her, caressing her like a sunbeam. "I feel it!" she cried excitedly.

Ollivander nodded. "Just so, my lady. Now put your wand away. Do you remember how you felt? Good. I want you to sort through these boxes of wood and keep out any piece that resonates like that. For that is how a wandmaker determines what wood is suitable for a wand—he listens for its song. All wood has an inner voice, one that you can hear if you're taught how to listen properly, or have a strong bond with the earth. I'm told the Summer fae have strong earth magic, is that not so?"

"Mostly, sir. The royal line has always been strong in earth and air magics. Fire too. My grandmother could conjure stone golems with a snap of her fingers," Nesmay told him. "My cousin Harry has a strong earth bond, since he's the Heir to Prince Manor. His father does as well. But I . . .I can cast glamours but I'm a half-blood and I don't know a lot about my magic yet . . ."

"You'll learn, young Nesmay. For the kingwood to bond with you means you have a latent earth talent. Which of your parents was a mortal, lass?"

Nesmay gulped. She had feared someone would eventually ask her about her heritage. "It was my father, sir. But I never knew him. He . . .left court and the Summer Realm before I was born."

"Ah . . .I see. Born on the wrong side of the sheets, were you?" Ollivander said bluntly, but not unkindly. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time that's happened, eh? There's no shame in it."

Nesmay gaped at him. "No shame? But—"

"No shame to you, girl." The old wandseller said simply. "The shame belongs to them that begot you. You are blameless."

"Pity my uncle doesn't think so," she blurted before she could think better of it.

"That's backwards thinking, but many do still cling to the old ways, and blame the child for a parent's mistake. Foolish! It's not what you are born as, but what you become that matters."

"That's what Cousin Severus says."

"He's a smart one, your cousin is. Listen to him, he knows more than just potions." Ollivander Summoned a bottle of butterbeer and took a long drink from the bottle. He offered one to Nesmay as well. "Now then, to work. Remember, concentrate upon the song within the wood, girl."

Nesmay watched as he turned about and pointed his wand, made of elder and holly, at a wooden board and it flew into place, Sticking itself to the plaster and concrete wall. She had not thought a mere mortal could be so perceptive . . .or so accepting of her status as a bastard half-blood. It made her feel even more guilty that she had wrecked his livelihood and more determined to set things right.

She turned to the first box of wood- hazel strips, which were rough cut and from eight to thirteen inches in length. One by one she picked them up and held them, concentrating on feeling the "song" inside the wood. She went through five strips before she felt one sing to her, vibrating slightly in her palm. Smiling, she set it aside by her left foot and continued her task.

An hour passed, and Nesmay had found seven hazel sticks that sang to her, and the box was nearly empty. She quickly identified two more and then put the discards back in the box and moved onto the next one—a box of oak sticks. The oak seemed more responsive and had a deeper song than the hazel wood, she found ten before she had gone a quarter of the way through the box. Another hour went by and Nesmay had thirty sticks of oak before Ollivander called a halt.

He looked over at her pile and nodded. "Very good, my lady. You have a feel for the wood, as much as any apprentice wandmaker I have ever had."

"I do? But there are more oak sticks than hazel ones."

"That's usually the way of it. Oak takes better to magic than hazel, which chooses only the wisest to become wands. But now my stomach tells me 'tis time for lunch."

He opened a large knapsack and pulled from it two plates and two thick ham and cheese sandwiches slathered with honey mustard and pickles. He also withdrew a bowl of cucumber salad and a treacle tart for a sweet, plus bottled pumpkin juice. He set the fare up on a rickety wooden table and pulled up a stool. "Feast fit for kings, yes?"

Nesmay smiled shyly. "Or princesses." She took a sandwich and bit into it hungrily. She would have preferred merlinna juice and roast beef, Swiss, and sautéed onions, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Besides, the ham was salty and sweet and the cheese a sharp cheddar, a good pairing.

By the time the four hours were up, Nesmay had a mild headache and was weary from kneeling beside a box for so long, but she had gotten a good deal accomplished, or so she felt.

Ollivander had replaced one whole side of the workshop and some of the floor by the time Snape returned to pick up his ward, and pronounced it a good day's work. He bid the fae girl and the Potions Master a cheery farewell and said he looked forward to seeing her tomorrow at the same time.

"What did you learn today?" Severus asked as they walked across the lawn towards the manor house.

"I learned how wandmakers choose wood for wands, Severus. And that Master Ollivander doesn't share the prejudices of my people towards half-breed bastards," Nesmay answered honestly.

The Potions Master nodded, pleased. "That is well, Nesmayallindra. Now, go and change for supper. I believe Draco caught a bass and is broiling it."

Nesmay cheered, for she had a fondness for fresh fish, and ran into the manor.

Over supper, she told the boys how Ollivander was teaching her about wand making and Harry said wistfully, "That sounds really interesting, Nesmay. I've always wondered about how a wand was made."

"Me too," Draco added. "It's too bad we couldn't go and learn as well."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "You wish to assist Ollivander in his repairs?"

"Yes. It's not that we're bored or anything, Dad," Harry said quickly. "But it sounds like a real interesting topic to study. And now I sound like Hermione."

"Miss Granger is to be commended for her zest in learning," Severus said. He was actually pleased by his sons' enthusiasm. "However, I feel that you shouldn't accompany Nesmay the entire time, since this is partly a punishment for her which she is expected to learn from. I shall speak to Ollivander and ask if he wouldn't mind an extra pair of hands or two during the last hour of Nesmay's time."

"That would be great, Dad," said Draco. "Then we could Floo home and you needn't Apparate us all back. That is, if you removed the Floo Block for us." Prince Manor had Floo Blocking spells over all the fireplaces to prevent unauthorized entry, and they could only be removed by the Heir or the Heir could recalibrate them to admit certain wizard only.

Severus, who used the summer time to experiment with various new brews and elixirs, would not mind his sons escorting Nesmay home, freeing him to work in his lab without interruption for most of the day. "I shall think on it," he replied, not wanting to give in too quickly. "I will speak to Ollivander tomorrow."

The three children exchanged grins and finished their dinner eagerly. Then they all played Dragon's Wild until Nesmay fell asleep over her last hand and Severus carried her up to bed. He tucked her in and left a small glowlamp burning, for he had learned from Harry that she too hated the dark, having been punished as a small child by being shoved into a dark cellar when she misbehaved.

"Kind of like me and the cupboard," was what his son had said.

Thus Severus left a lamp on and wished her pleasant dreams before returning to the kitchen to finish the card game. He mused briefly on whether Titania was aware of how her grandchild had been treated by her tutors and nursemaids and if so, why had nothing been done about it? Perhaps it was time for him to write a letter of his own.

But then he hesitated. Nesmay was related him through a blood tie, but it was not a strong one. And he did not wish to anger the Queen of the Seelie, for Titania made a very formidable enemy. He was not even sure if he had the right to bring such a thing to the queen's attention. Then his mouth firmed. If he did not, then who would? She had been entrusted to his care, and he had sworn upon his honor to treat her like one of his own children. Helping her heal was paramount to teaching her control over her magic. Plus, did not Titania deserve to know the truth about what had happened to her granddaughter?

He would write the letter tomorrow, he decided. Perhaps if he did so, the queen might also write to Nesmay and reassure the girl that she was still wanted and loved by one member of her family. That would go a long way towards healing the child's spirit.

Ollivander was quite happy to have more help restoring his shop, and having the famous Harry Snape and his brother Draco Malfoy assisting him was good for morale. Then too, he was always happy to spend time teaching young wizards and witches about his favorite pastime, and perhaps encouraging a budding wand maker or two.

Harry and Draco Flooed over to The Leaky Cauldron later that same afternoon, once they had finished all their chores at the manor and taken a short nap. Ollivander welcomed them cordially, then set them to sorting wood the same as Nesmay. Much to everyone's surprise, it was Draco who proved to have the most talent for doing so.

"I never would have thought . . ." the blond wizard said, staring at the rowan stick in his hand in surprise. "Harry's the Heir Apparent to Prince Manor, he's got the earth bond . . ."

"Ah, but you have inherited your family's estate, is that not so?" Ollivander asked.

"Uh, yes. Not officially, since I'm underage, but when I turn seventeen, I'll be the Lord of Malfoy Manor."

"Then you must have a strong bond with your land, young Malfoy. Have you been back to visit since your parents' demise?"

"No. But I've met with my solicitor."

"I would wager that if you went back and set foot upon the property, you would feel the bond between you and the land deepen." Oliivander eyed Draco keenly. "Besides which, I believe you possess a natural talent for feeling the magic hidden within things. Do continue, Draco."

Draco did, smiling broadly. It felt good to be praised that way, and to be better than his brother at something. Sometimes he felt as if he was always in Harry's shadow, and it was nice to get out from under it. And who knew? Perhaps he could become a wandmaker someday.

"Hey, Draco, maybe you could become a wandmaker someday," suggested Harry.

Draco wondered if his little brother could read minds, or was he just intuitive, like Professor Snape?

"Have you considered a career yet, young Draco?" asked the old wizard.

"Umm . . .no, but I guess I could keep it in mind."

"You do that, young man. Something to think about. If you still feel the same way when you finish school, come and see me. Normally I don't take on more than one apprentice at a time, but Abelard is proving to be difficult. He's gifted with certain types of wood, but his patience with people and attitude towards customers leaves a lot to be desired. It's not enough to craft a wand, one must be able to relate to the wizard searching for one as well, since that is how you can make the best match. The wand chooses, but the wandmaker helps guide the two together. In the meantime, I need to get this shop ready. Harry, if you would assist me in moving those boards over there?"

While Harry worked with Ollivander to replace the floor, Draco and Nesmay sorted wood diligently. Occasionally, Ollivander would pause to lecture them about the different properties of each wood. Oak was known for its strength, willow was excellent for charm work. Lily, Harry's mother, had had a willow wand. So did Ron. James, his foster father, had had a mahogany wand, which was pliable and good for transfiguration. Holly was meant to repel evil, as was rowan. Maple was known for its longevity and black walnut for its protective qualities. Vinewood was known for its peace and healing qualities. Hermione's wand was made from vinewood. Draco's wand was hawthorn, which was known for its ability to guard the entrances to the Otherworld as well as slay undead, such as vampires. Severus' wand was pure ebony, which was one of the most magical woods, and gave the wielder a great deal of power as well as being the best protective wood ever known.

By week's end, they had sorted all the wood Ollivander had on hand. Next week they would learn how to trim and polish it. The wandmaker was very pleased with the Snape childrens' industriousness and praised them lavishly when Severus came to the shop to inquire about them on Friday. As a reward, the Potions Master took them to dinner at _The Green Dragon Inn, _a new inn and restaurant that had just opened a few months before.

It had very good food, and they all ate heartily of the stuffed pork chops with apple gravy and fried potatoes seasoned with rosemary and onions and fresh broccoli. Afterwards, they went to the ice cream shoppe for dessert, and had their favorite ice cream sundaes.

Harry liked the triple chocolate twist, Draco the butterscotch and vanilla nut, Nesmay's favorite was a banana split, and Severus chose a pecan espresso, rich, dark, and creamy though not overly sweet.

By the time the family emerged from the ice cream parlor, it was dusk, and they made their way leisurely to The Leaky Cauldron to Floo back home. The boys were in high spirits, teasing Nesmay affectionately, as well as each other. Severus was even minded to join in a bit, and so intent were they on each other that no one noticed the shadowy figure watching from Knockturn Alley.

The watcher's hands clenched into fists and his slanted eyes burned with bitter fury. But he made no move to follow the quartet down the street, simply watched until they were out of sight. _Someday soon, there shall be a reckoning. And then I shall take what is mine._

An instant later, the watcher vanished, taking the chill from the shadows with him, and Knockturn Alley was empty, save for a few rats pawing through scraps on the rubbish heap and a skinny cat who stalked them. The cat shuddered as it passed the space where the unseen watcher had been, laying back its ears and hissing at the stench of evil that still lingered in the air. Then it continued to hunt, for the night was still young and it was hungry.

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I will now be posting much more regualrly since I have finished But For A Dog, and hope you will read that if you haven't done so already. **

**What did you think of Ollivander here? **

**And who is the mysterious watcher?**

**50 House Points and candy of your choice to the one who guesses the watcher's identity correctly.**


	49. Captured

**49**

**Captured**

Four days later, Harry, Draco, and Nesmay were sanding and smoothing several lengths of wood prior to Ollivander's carving them into different wand shapes. Some wands the wandmaker left as a simple piece of wood, smoothed and tapered, others he carved fanciful shapes on or spiraled the wood or etched runes on. When Draco asked why, Ollivander answered, "You must learn not only to hear the magic in the wood, but also to feel what shape it takes. Some wood asks to be ornamented, some to have runes of power etched upon it, other kinds ask to be natural, lacking the fancy carvings. When I hold a piece of wood in my hand, I listen with both my heart and my magical sense. And then I can start to carve."

"What if you make a mistake?"

"You undo it with magic and start again," answered the wandmaker. "Once you have carved the wood, then you need to match the wand with the core. I usually use only three cores—a phoenix feather, a dragon heartstring, and unicorn hair. Occasionally, a specific wood might call for another core, and that is why I have serpent scales here, or the frozen tear of a frost dragon. But such is rare, and mostly I use the three standard materials for cores."

"How can you match a wood to a core?" was Draco's next question.

"Usually, you try and match a yielding wood with a firm core, the core and wood should compliment each other. So a willow wood would do well with a dragon heartstring core, or a phoenix one, but less so with a unicorn hair. But remember, all wood must be able to yield somewhat, or else it will shatter during the melding process. However, more about that later. Most apprentices of mine don't get the full speech until they've been working for me at least two years."

"What if you misjudge a wood and a core?" asked Nesmay. "Will the wand blow up?"

"No. It may not work as well. Sparks may shoot out of it and it might not be as reliable, but it will still work. Many . . .substandard wands are used as practice wands, or even substitutions if a wizard's wand should break."

"How does a wand choose a wizard?" asked Harry.

"Ah, now that is one mystery I cannot explain so easily," Ollivander chuckled. "Only that the magic in the wand must resonate with the magic of the wizard or witch. When the two are in balance, the wand chooses. Or such is my theory. Others claim it has more to do with personality. It may be both. No one has ever really been sure what criteria a wand chooses by."

The three children thought about that while they polished the wood with rough and soft cloths treated with Magical Wood Polisher. Each day they had come to the wandshop, which was now almost totally restored, they learned something new about wands or wood or harnessing their magical core. "A wand was designed to focus the wild magic within you and help you control it easier. It channels the magic into a form you can use without so much effort."

Nesmay found that the more she assisted Ollivander, and practiced her meditation with Severus, the more she was growing to control her powers and to regard her mortal magic as more of a blessing than a curse.

And so she was sorry to find that it was time to go when she glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It chimed four and Ollivander sighed and said, "Well, I'll see you next Monday, Harry, Draco, and Nesmay. Best you hurry on home, I'm sure your dad has supper waiting."

"He does." Harry said. "Goodbye, Mr. Ollivander."

Once they had bid goodbye to the wandseller, the three headed back towards The Leaky Cauldron, which was where they Flooed home from every day they worked for Ollivander. The streets were quiet, as it was dinner hour and most shops closed so their owners could go home for a hot meal. Harry felt his stomach grumble and said, "I hope Dad has something really . . .filling for supper tonight." Lately, Severus had been on a salad and soup kick, and while Harry enjoyed the different salads and soups he made, he also found himself longing for a nice roasted chicken or a steak.

"He will. Remember, tonight's when Sarai is coming back to the manor," Draco reminded his brother.

"Oh! Right. Then that means we're going to get a four course meal." Harry grinned.

Nesmay laughed. "Really? He's that excited to see her? Only kidding," she laughed at the stares the boys gave her. "The whole court knows of how Sarai and Severus are in love with each other. It's the romance of the century."

"They can keep the romance. Just let us eat," Draco said, laughing.

"You can say that again," Harry agreed.

Nesmay rolled her eyes. Boys! Always thinking with their stomachs. They were about halfway down the walk and just passing the notorious Knockturn Alley when she heard the sound of a cat crying. "Oh, the poor thing!" she exclaimed, looking around. "Here, kitty!" she called.

Again came the unmistakable wail of a cat in trouble.

Nesmay squinted. In the gathering dusk, she thought she could make out the small skinny form of a cat crouching beneath some crates down Knockturn Alley. She could just catch the gleam of its green eyes. "Poor kitty!" she crooned, walking quickly across the street. "Don't be scared." She knelt in the mouth of the alley and made smooching noises. She had always been a sucker for animals, especially cats. "Come here, little thing. I'm sure Severus won't mind me bringing home a starving kitten. Here, kitty!"

"Nesmay! What are you doing?" cried Harry. "You can't go down there."

She didn't turn around. "I'm rescuing a kitten. It's scared and hungry."

"But that's Knockturn Alley!"

"Where all the bad wizards hang out," Draco added. "I ought to know, since once I used to be one of them, and I shopped at Borgin and Burkes."

"I'm not shopping for dark magic. I'm _trying_ to save a life!" Nesmay snapped irritably. She carefully took two steps, holding out her hand, which had a bit of turkey in it, she had tucked a few pieces in her pocket to give Cafall, but she could spare some. "Here, kitty! Come and eat the yummy turkey."

Draco and Harry followed her across the street, and then ventured cautiously into the alley. It was dingy and dark and it stank of mildew and rotting garbage and old fish. The rather fastidious Draco wrinkled his nose and said, "I can't believe I used to hang out here. Father, you were a bad influence."

Nesmay ignored her cousins, instead concentrating upon the cat. For some reason, it seemed awfully familiar, as if she had seen this cat before. Then she shook her head at her own foolishness. A lot of cats looked the same, especially if they were black. She held the turkey out and made kissing noises, trying to coax the feline out.

"Nessie, come on! We're going to be late for dinner," Harry muttered.

Nesmay turned and glared at him. "Shhh! You'll frighten her!" She turned back to the cat.

Only to discover that the cat had scuttled even further back into the alley, deeper into the shadows.

Nesmay started to follow, but Draco grabbed her shoulder. "Nesmay, this is far enough. You really don't want to go any further."

"Draco, let go! The cat needs me."

"Cats can take care of themselves." Draco said dismissively, there was something dangerous here, it was making the hair on the back of his neck prickle in warning.

"You can come back tomorrow and see if it's still there," Harry persuaded.

"How? It's the weekend, we won't be back till Monday," Nesmay pouted.

"Now that simply won't do at all," drawled a new voice from behind them.

As the three spun to face this unexpected visitor, the temperature dropped about twenty degrees and frost and ice began forming along the bricks and the cobblestones. Harry started to shiver and he wished he had worn his jacket. He tugged out his wand, for some sixth sense told him he was going to need it. "Why in hell is it so cold?"

Nesmay felt her fae senses flare in warning. "Because winter comes where the Unseelie walk," she spat, her kingwood wand sputtering with her ambient magic. "Who are you? Did Maeve send you? The treaty between Winter and Summer still holds."

The tall figure at the mouth of the alley chuckled, his form etched with blue light. "Wrong, my lady. The treaty has been broken, since I was cheated of what was mine." He walked forward two paces, a grim smile upon his face.

Nesmay went deathly pale. "Jarillion!"

He bowed mockingly, his hand upon the hilt of his sword. "Well met again, princess. Fancy meeting you here."

"You . . .you followed me here?" she croaked, suddenly terribly afraid. At the Summer court she had blithely mocked his pretensions and his arrogance, but she knew she was protected from his wrath by her grandmother and the sanctions imposed upon the Unseelie by their Seelie cousins. Such things didn't hold true any longer outside of the Fae Realm.

"Titania tried to renege on her deal by sending you to the mortal realm, but we Unseelie aren't as stupid as you think," Jarillion declared, his lips curling into a sneer.

"I was never promised to you in marriage!" Nesmay flared. "I don't know what lies you're spinning—"

"Watch yourself, girl! You dare accuse a member of the royal house of lies? That's treason!"

"Who cares? She's not your subject, Ice Prince!" Draco jeered.

"Soon she shall be my bride," Jarillion stated.

"I'd hang myself first!" Nesmay spat, revulsion clawing at her.

The Unseelie prince laughed. "I'll thaw that rebellious fiery spirit quick enough. Come now, my dear. No need to get rough."

"What part of **no** don't you understand?" Nesmay scowled, but it was an act. She knew Jarillion was dangerous, all the Unseelie were, but none so much as those of the royal house, who had been trained for centuries in the arts of murder, espionage, poison, and dark magic. "How did you find me, anyway? My grandmother would have never told you."

"For the right price, anyone can be bought," Jarillion chuckled. "Power is a great motivator."

Nesmay felt her heart go chill. She knew that only one member of her family might have been convinced to betray her, one member that despised her and wanted her gone, her heart screamed silently. She should not have been surprised, he had always hated her for killing her mother at birth, yet even so . . .she had thought he would have drawn the line at trading her like a sack of merlinnas to a cold-hearted evil man. She felt something innocent within her shatter. _Uncle, how could you? __I was right. I might bear the Highstar name, but I shall never be one of them._ Sudden tears stung her eyes. But she lifted her head and glared at her archenemy.

"Jarillion, go back to the hell that spawned you. Whatever my uncle promised you was not his to give. I'll marry you over my dead body." She pointed her wand at him and tried to summon up her magic.

A hairy muscled arm suddenly clamped about her throat, cutting off her breath. "Sun princess show respect to Ice Prince Lord!" growled a guttural voice in her ear. The foul breath, like rotting meat, and the harsh accent told her she was held captive by an orc, the flesh-eating henchmen of the Unseelie royals.

"Now, Grulf, don't damage her too much," chided the prince. "I want a wife, not a corpse." He said something else in the guttural orcish language, and tossed the big yellow-skinned tusked creature something metal that glittered.

The orc snapped his hand out and caught the object. Grunting with pleasure, he clasped it round Nesmay's neck.

Nesmay felt an icy jolt shoot through her and she screamed and reached up her hands to tug upon the cold silver collar. Her wand fell to the ground beside her feet. "What . . .have you done to me?" she sobbed hoarsely.

"It's a Collar of Restriction." Jarillion said smoothly. "So long as you wear it, your magic shall be bound. I've heard stories about you, girl. Your mortal magic might be powerful, but even it can be brought to heel."

Nesmay struggled against the collar. She felt as if it were cutting off her breath and worse, smothering her magic. One moment she had been filled with the fiery glow of her magic, and the next she was cut off. She tried to reach her power, but it was as if she was a Muggle, she could not feel it, it was locked away. Frantic, she clawed at the icy silver band.

"Let her go, you half-wit bastard!" Harry yelled, shooting off a Burning Hex at the conceited prince.

Jarillion laughed and batted it aside lazily. "You'll have to try harder than that, little sorcerer."

Draco, meanwhile, charged at the orc holding Nesmay prisoner. He leaped into the air and kicked at the big creature's head.

It felt as if he had slammed his foot into a rock.

The orc grunted and staggered, releasing Nesmay.

Draco landed on the ground, his foot aching, but he had his hands up in a defensive position.

The orc drew a huge blade, like a scimitar, and growled at Draco. "Kill yellow-haired boy!"

"No!" Nesmay howled, trying desperately to access her magic. But she might as well have been trying to fly without a broom. All she gave herself was a headache.

Draco watched his opponent warily, the orc was both bigger and stronger than he was, as well as better armed. He moved backwards towards the end of Knockturn Alley. He thought about shouting for help, but he knew the policy of the shopkeepers here—don't get involved, no matter what.

Jarillion shouted something else in the harsh orc tongue and three more of the tusked beasts appeared in the alley and one of them swung a club at Draco's head. It glanced off the boy's temple and he fell to the ground, knocked unconscious.

The big orc raised his scimitar and Nesmay shrieked and threw herself over Draco's body. "Kill him and you kill me, pig-snout!"

Jarillion saw and snapped out another order in orcish. The orcs halted and one snatched Nesmay and threw her over his shoulder. Then he turned and started marching back to an oval glowing hole in the far wall.

Nesmay tried to get her captive to release her and she banged her fists upon the orc's muscular back, cursing in the fae tongue.

"Nesmay! Draco!" Harry shouted, and fired a Stunning Hex at the big orc.

But his aim was off and it bounced against the narrow wall, fizzled and died.

"Nice try, boy." The Winter prince mocked. He drew his sword and an icy flame appeared in his palm. "Prepare to meet your Maker."

Harry looked up at the handsome fae lord and shuddered. There was no compassion in his eyes, he was all frost, eyeing Harry with an inhuman emotionless expression. Harry knew then he was as close to death as he'd ever been. Jarillion would kill him with about as much remorse as swatting a mosquito. But he would not go quietly into the dark. He was a Snape and the heir to Prince Manor. "Come and get me then." He taunted, his green eyes filled with anger. "But know this, Your Highness. Kill me and you'll never be able to stop running."

"And why is that?"

"Because my father and Sarai Valinek will never stop hunting you to avenge my death and my brother's. And I wouldn't doubt if the Summer Queen herself wouldn't put a price on your head for slaying one of her relatives. I am her cousin through my father's bloodline. You won't live long enough to enjoy what you stole, prince."

Jarillion thought about it. He could tell the boy was speaking the truth. He did have blood ties to the Queen, and while Jarillion knew he might get away with taking Nesmay due to the contract he'd drawn up with Oberon, it might cause a war if he were to slay the son of the Heir to Prince Manor. And Queen Maeve would _not_ be pleased. "Very well. You can be my hostage. We'll see what your father is willing to pay for your ransom, boy."

Then he tossed the blue flame at Harry's head.

Harry tried to dodge, but the ice bolt smashed into his forehead and his last thought was how this was the worst headache he had ever endured. He crumpled to the ground, his face and neck coated with a sheen of frost.

Jarillion nudged him with his boot. "Stupid mortals. Always willing to die for each other. Pathetic!" He bent down to pick up Harry.

As he lifted the comatose wizard, the silver chain of Harry's medallion, which had gotten frozen to the ground, snapped and the amulet slipped free and fell to the cobbles. Jarillion kicked it with his foot as he went to pick up Draco as well. "I probably should kill the spare, but . . .two hostages are better than one." He snatched up the kingwood wand also, not wanting to leave anything behind for someone to find.

The medallion skittered across the slick stone and came to rest just inside the mouth of the alley.

The Unseelie prince stalked over to the blue glittering oval, whispered a word, and the oval showed a gray fortress surrounded by snow, with orc footprints clearly visible in the desolate landscape. Jarillion stepped through the Gate and then it shut behind him, leaving no trace behind save for the silver medallion half-coated with ice.

**So, were you surprised? **

**Any guesses on what will happen now?**


	50. Among the Missing

**50**

**Among the Missing**

_Prince Manor_

_That same afternoon:_

Severus clinked his glass full of apple wine, made from the apples of Avalon, the same Avalon in the Arthurian legends, which still existed on the fae side of the world, and smiled at his beloved warrior, soon to be his wife. "To us," he said in liquid language of the fae. He knew only a few phrases and words, but those he did know he could use fluently. He was hoping to improve his language skills now that Sarai would be around forever to instruct him.

Sarai, who was dressed in a very classy green gown that was elegant yet simple, smiled back and touched her wine glass to his. "And to all the days yet to come." Then she drank some of the sweet potent wine, it went down her throat like a lover's caress, smooth and leaving her wanting more. Just like Severus' touch always did.

Severus drank his own wine and nibbled on some of the snacks he had made to celebrate Sarai's arrival at the manor. There were tiny cucumber and mayonnaise sandwiches and small ham and cheese puffs, cheese and crackers, fruit with a cream cheese dip, and tangy cocktail meatballs. There was also a pitcher of merlinna juice and some water infused with peaches and pineapples, a new technique he had learned from Julie Snape, Phil's wife, who enjoyed drinking flavored water.

Just then the clock in the den struck four-thirty.

Severus looked startled, then it occurred to him that the boys and Nesmay weren't home yet. "That's odd. Usually, the boys and Nesmay are home by now from Ollivander's shop."

"What time do they work until?"

"Four." Severus frowned. "They're half-an-hour late. I told Harry and Draco to be on time today for dinner." He shook his head. "They probably forgot, or became distracted by some new Quidditch accessory. Still, perhaps I had better contact Lucian, maybe he kept them late for some reason." He rose to his feet. "This will only take a moment, Sarai."

He walked into the den, and tossed a pinch of Floo Powder into the fireplace and called, "Ollivander's Wands!" Then he stuck his head into the green flames. "Lucian! Are you there?"

"Just a moment." Then the wandmaker appeared, dusting off his robes. "Severus, is there something I can help you with? Is a wand malfunctioning?"

"No, Lucian. I was actually wondering if you knew the whereabouts of my children? Are they staying late working on a project?"

"Why, no. I sent them home at five to four, same as usual. Why?"

"Oh, I see. Well, they probably got sidetracked." Severus said, squelching down the first fluttering of panic. "Quality Quidditch Supplies is no doubt having a sale or something."

"Would you like me to go and search for them?" Ollivander offered, looking concerned.

"No, thank you, Lucian. I shall come and look myself. Serve them right if they're embarrassed by their father finding them and dragging them out by their ear in public." Severus said grimly. "Have a good evening."

He withdrew his head from the fire and canceled the spell.

"Sev? Is something wrong?" Sarai called.

Severus stood up, scowling. He was quite upset at how inconsiderate his sons and Nesmay had been, disregarding his instructions, making him leave and go search for them. This was supposed to be a welcome home feast, and the children were supposed to be home to eat dinner with them as a family. "It's nothing. They weren't at Ollivanders, which means they're probably lingering at some store or other. I shall have to go and fetch them, the irresponsible little—" Suddenly he gasped, as his medallion became searingly hot, warning him that his sons were in mortal peril.

He grasped the medallion and saw a glimpse of darkness and felt both cold and hot and then. . .nothing.

He gave an involuntary shout of alarm, which brought Sarai running into the den. "Severus, what's wrong?"

"I . . .something's happened to Harry and Draco. Nesmay too. My amulet . . .it warned me that something was wrong, it went hot and then ice cold and then I felt nothing . . .I must find them, Sarai."

"I'm coming with you." She said, and gestured sharply. Her gown became her familiar green and brown tunic and trews and her swirling Captain's cloak. Her sword was on her belt and so was her dagger. She looked lean and deadly, a hard look stealing into her green eyes.

Cafall suddenly trotted into the den, whining low in his throat. He clearly sensed something was amiss and came up to Severus and gazed at him worriedly. Severus knelt and ruffled the misthound's ears. "Cafall, the boys are in trouble. I wish you could . . .Sarai, how good is a misthound's sense of smell? Could he track the boys and Nesmay if he had to?"

The guard captain eyed the half-grown puppy and said, "Misthounds are known for never losing the scent once they are set on a trail. They have the best noses in the fae realm, and Cafall is one of the royal line, bred from the best hunters in the queen's kennels. If there is a trail to follow, he'll follow it."

Severus snapped his fingers and a long lead flew into his grasp. He bent and attached it to Cafall's collar. "We'll go by Floo to _The Leaky Cauldron_ and then we'll start out by trailing them from Ollivander's shop. I have scarves and a shirt that we can use to give Cafall their scent." He Summoned the requisite items and tucked them into his pockets. Then he took down the Staff of the Magi from the wall. He hadn't used the powerful artifact since that battle in the graveyard, but he had an uneasy feeling he might need it.

Then he activated the Floo and they stepped through the fire, Cafall whimpered but followed obediently, since the magical flames did not give off any heat.

They emerged into a rather crowded pub and no one gave them a second glance except Tom the barkeep. "Evening, Severus. My lady."

"Good evening, Tom," Severus said casually. "You haven't by chance seen my sons around lately? Or their cousin?"

Tom shook his head. "Not since this morning. Playing hooky from their chores are they?"

"Late coming back from Ollivanders," Severus said shortly.

"Ah. Well, if I happen to see them, I'll tell them to wait for you here, shall I?"

"Thank you, Tom. That would be fine." Severus said quietly.

Then they walked out of the pub and started down the street, Cafall suddenly sniffing hard and making a strange half-bark and half-baying noise. He tugged at the leash before they were even halfway to Ollivanders.

"Easy, boy. Settle down now," Severus scolded as the dog tried to run across the street to where Knockturn Alley was located. "Nothing but trouble down there. Harry and Draco know better than to go down there."

But Cafall strained at the lead, barking.

"Cafall, stop it!"

Sarai touched his arm. "Sev, I think he's found a scent. Misthounds don't act like this unless they smell a quarry."

"Sarai, I haven't even asked him to track yet. How would he know what he's searching for? Besides, what would they be doing down in Knockturn Alley? That's the haunt of dark wizards and their apprentices."

"If the children were abducted, wouldn't that be where they would be taken?" Sarai mused.

"I . . .yes, I suppose so." Severus conceded reluctantly. Gripping the leash firmly, he followed the eager misthound across the street.

As soon as he stepped into the alley he felt the breath-stealing chill and darkness of Winter magic. "Sarai, do you feel that?"

She nodded, her eyes dark. "Unseelie magic has been worked here, Severus. I feel it within me."

"You're certain?" Severus wasn't truly asking. He knew all too well the taint that dark magic left behind.

"Yes." Frowning, she pointed to the ice-rimed cobbles and bricks. Her foot struck something and she bent to see what it was.

She immediately recognized Harry's medallion, covered in frost, and picked it up. "May the Bright One have mercy!"

"What is it?" Severus turned to look at her and saw the amulet. He felt as if someone had squeezed his heart with a giant fist. Harry never took off that medallion. Then he saw the broken chain dangling from the medallion. He knew that the medallion could not be removed by force, which meant that Harry had deliberately left it behind or it had broken and fallen off. "Damn! I had hoped he still had the medallion, because then I might have been able to feel him a little through the link."

Cafall sniffed the medallion, then bayed loudly.

Severus winced, for the dog had a voice like a bugle and it echoed through the narrow alley. "Shhh!"

"You know what this means, don't you?" Sarai asked, her face grave. "They have been taken by someone who either works for or is a member of the Winter Court."

"Why would they do something like that? They've broken the Accords by kidnapping Nesmay and my sons."

"I know. Whoever has done this must be desperate . . .or is hoping for a much greater prize. None of the Unseelie do anything without some benefit to themselves or their monarch."

"Then you think Maeve is behind this? Surely she knows this could start a war if the children aren't returned?"

"She would not be adverse to that, if she thinks it would benefit her. On the other hand . . .this could have been done without her sanction."

"Who would be bold enough to defy both queens of Winter and Summer?"

Sarai was quiet for a moment. "I know of one person. He has been sniffing around Nesmayallindra for quite some time. Jarillion, younger son of the queen. He was supposed to have entered into a betrothal contract with my small cousin, but her grandmother refused. She said she would not see Nesmay bartered to some cold Winter lord who would mistreat her and make her life a misery. Not even for the sake of peace. That did not sit well with Oberon."

"Surely, he wouldn't have . . ."

"Oberon would not openly defy Titania," Sarai said. "But he might have made a small deal with Jarillion on the side. I do not think the Winter Prince would have come to the mortal realm otherwise. Especially here."

Severus shook his head. "We can speculate later. I think we should start tracking them. Cafall, find Harry and Draco! Find them!"

Cafall promptly pulled them down the alley and then halted at the end, pawing and barking at the brick wall unhappily.

"A portal. They must have used a portal," Sarai declared. She closed her eyes and concentrated. "Yes. A portal to the fae realm was opened here."

"Can you re-open it?"

"Not to the exact location. The signature is too faint. But if I do open a portal to the Winter Kingdom, we had best be prepared to face what's on the other side. Which is miles of trackless forest and wastelands buried beneath tons of snow and ice, a land of perpetual cold and wind and sleet. We need to gather supplies and appropriate clothing, or else neither of us will survive to find the children."

Severus, who had been so anxious and frantic to find his missing children and Nesmay, had not even thought about venturing into the realm of the Unseelie, and he was grateful that Sarai was there to keep him from going off half-cocked, like some impulsive Gryffindor hero. "Right. We can find what we need here. But we need to be quick about it."

He ordered Cafall to heel and headed back towards the lights and warmth of the shops in Diagon Alley, his heart heavy and fearful within him.

Half-an-hour later, they were outfitted for the cold, with Warmth-Charmed insulated parkas and breeches, shirts and waterproof cloaks, enchanted snowshoes which would make them able to run swiftly over the snow, and packs filled with fleece-lined blankets and a smokeless ever-warm brazier. They had extra clothing and boots, healing potions, a first aid kit, tins of tea, and time-spelled plates of food, which could be revived with a single word and eaten cold or warmed over the brazier. They also had water skins and gloves and scarves, plus Sarai also had a triple-strength rope and a grapple as well as a bow and arrows. They also had dog food and a bowl for Cafall.

Everything was split between them and Severus shrunk all the items so they fit into the small packs and lightened the packs afterwards. Sarai estimated it might take them a week, perhaps two, to locate Jarillion's castle, for the realm of the Unseelie was not easy to navigate, even with a misthound leading them.

Inwardly, Severus cursed the fact that they had to travel overland, but he could not Apparate to a place he had never seen or been to before. His only hope was Cafall. "Should we inform the queen of our mission?" he asked when they stood at the end of Knockturn Alley once more.

"Technically, yes. But if we do so, it could cause a major incident, especially if Titania accuses Maeve of breaking the Accords. I don't want to start a war until we have the children back and if Jarillion suspects that we're making a rescue attempt, he may take them somewhere that it could take months to find them."

"Why risk the wrath of Titania in the first place?"

"Jarillion wishes to marry Nesmay and he would take a refusal as a personal insult. He is arrogant and I believe he wants to flaunt the fact that he has a princess of the royal house in his dominion."

"Why take Harry and Draco though?"

"Perhaps as a bargaining tool?" Sarai shrugged. "I fear for Nesmay, Severus. Jarillion is ruthless and evil, he hates us with a passion. There is no telling how far he will go."

"When I find him, I shall make him wish he was never born," growled Severus, and there was a terrible light in his eyes, deadly and fierce. "No one harms my children and gets away with it. No one!"

She placed her hands upon the wall, fingers spread and lowered her head in concentration.

Glowing green and purple ribbons of light spread out from her fingers and across the wall, creating a brilliant archway of light. Sarai shouted something in the fae tongue, and then the light faded to reveal a stark snow-filled landscape, barren of all vegetation except a few gnarled black oak trees and scrub plants. The sky overhead was a leaden gray, as if it were going to storm any moment, and ice rimed the crooked tree branches.

"Cold enough to freeze the warmest heart," Sarai whispered quietly, quoting an old saying of her people.

Cafall bayed again and jumped through the portal, towing Severus after him.

Sarai stepped through an instant later, then sealed the portal with a wave of her hand.

The cold made her gasp, despite her winter gear, but she knew she would have to adjust to it. She turned about. Severus was standing in snow up to his ankles, trying to restrain Cafall, who was pulling hard on his leash, unmindful of the snow clinging to his paws. Clearly the misthound had the scent and was eager to hunt.

Severus cast a Switching spell and swapped his boots for snowshoes. Then he began to run, following Cafall deeper into the frozen landscape. Wherever Jarillion had hidden, Severus vowed he would find him. And then the Winter Prince would feel the wrath of Severus Snape. _Hold on, children. I'm coming._

Behind him, Sarai strapped on her own snowshoes and raced after him, her sword drawn.

**I've finally updated this again, hope you enjoy it.**

**Next: Jarillion takes the children to his fortress, what shall await them there?**

**Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing this, I really appreciate it, especially since I've recently had another death in the family. So please continue!**


	51. Heart of Winter

**51**

**Heart of Winter**

Sarai's extra keen eyesight caught the shimmer of blue and white forms even as she stepped through the Gate and closed it behind her. Under her breath she swore as the shimmer resolved itself into the ghostly forms of five frost wraiths, unquiet spirits of the damned that the Unseelie bound to their service, setting them to guard their borders. Their slightest touch would freeze a person in their tracks and prolonged exposure to them would kill. She should have remembered there would be guardians and gone ahead.

As the frost wraiths materialized, a long low howl of malice sounded, and from out of the trees burst six massive dire wolves, misshapen parodies of real wolves, with humped shoulder and iron gray fur, and burning red eyes. They were about twenty yards away, and closing fast.

"Severus! 'Ware the wraiths!" Sarai yelled, her sword drawn inbetween the drawing of two breaths. "Get down!"

The Potons Master, to his credit, did not hesitate or question her orders, but simply dropped to the snow, unfastening Cafall's lead as he did so.

The misthound halted, the scent he followed still in his nostrils, but it was now eclipsed by the sight and odor of dire wolf, a misthound's natural enemy. Cafall lowered his head and snarled chillingly, his fur abristle.

The wraiths drifted forward, chillingly silent, as deadly as the frost from which they took their name. They had long sharp talons and their faces were half-formed twisted things, as they had once been mortal, victims or unlucky allies of Winter, who had died a slow death at the hands of the Unseelie.

Sarai bounded right over Severus, using a _kin-sa-dor_ master technique to make herself able to leap like a mountain elk, landing lightly in front of the encroaching wraiths. A single word coated the edge of her blade with fire and she thrust at the nearest wraith, her blade quickly finding its mark in the semi-corporeal creature.

The frost wraith shuddered, its mouth opening in a soundless scream as the fiery blade struck a mortal blow. Its tattered robes caught fire and blazed like a beacon before it died, unable to withstand the enchantment.

Sarai whirled to face the others, the four that were left surrounded her, hungrily reaching for her, eyes glowing with the eternal hatred of the living. She kept them at bay with calculated swipes of her sword, her eyes hard.

Severus regained his feet and brought his staff into play. The Staff of the Magi was an ideal battle instrument, and at a soft word it shot tiny iron pellets, which slammed into two of the wraiths like shrapnel and destroyed them. Since they were animated by Winter magic, iron could shatter the bindings and cause them to die a natural death.

Sarai leaped and spun in a deadly dance of death, keeping her sword moving deftly, and the wraiths shrank from her blade, hissing softly, their mouths twisted in grimaces of hate and fear. One fell to her lightning quick backhand thrust, the other two circled warily, radiating an unearthly chill that made her fingers ache, in spite of the warmth of her sword hilt and gloves.

"Where did these bloody ghosts come from?" Severus growled, thrusting his staff at one.

"Frost wraiths," Sarai corrected, ducking a clawed swipe. "They're guardians of Winter. As are the dire wolves."

The dire wolves were almost upon them, their cries of savage glee echoing upon the wind. Cafall waited, growling viciously, as the lead wolf charged at him. Though smaller than the massive wolf, Cafall had the advantage of speed and an instinctive ability to target weaknesses in his dire wolf foes.

Before the lead wolf reached him, Cafall darted in and clamped his jaws upon the dire wolf's foreleg, a favorite attack of his breed. A broken leg would render an opponent disabled and easy prey for a throat hold. The dire wolf yowled and tried to shake off the misthound.

Cafall clung, biting down hard. Though he was not a bulldog, the misthound possessed the ability to adapt his fighting methods as needed, and his initial bite had not been enough to snap the wolf's thick bone. So he gnawed harder, and the dire wolf snapped at his shoulder.

The wolf's teeth opened a gash in the young hound's shoulder. Cafall yelped and released his hold, rolling to avoid the wolf's second snap. When he got to his feet, he found himself surrounded by the rest of the pack. The misthound backed away, still snarling in warning, looking for a way to break through the deadly circle before the dire wolves tore him to pieces.

At the sound of Cafall's pained cry, Severus turned to see what was happening to his dog. Horror intermingled with fury rushed through him as he saw Cafall surrounded by huge gray shapes slavering and eager for the kill. He shouted the word to activate the staff's flaming meteor swarm, and twenty-five balls of celestial fire erupted from his staff and slammed into the pack of wolves.

Howls of agony and fear emerged from the dire wolves' throats, for next to iron, fire was the thing they most feared. They scattered across the snow, yelping as the meteors pursued them, and Cafall darted through the gap in the circle, escaping the deadly trap.

One dire wolf followed, and Cafall spun, coming up under the big beast and tearing at its vulnerable underbelly.

Meanwhile, Severus concentrated on killing or driving off the rest of the wolf pack, allowing Sarai time to finish the last frost wraith off with a quick thrust and turn to assist her fiancée.

One dire wolf, bolder than the rest of the pack, sprinted through the snow and sprang at Snape.

He managed to get his staff up in time to block the dire wolf's jaws, but the one hundred and fifty pound wolf slammed him into the ground, jaws closing upon the black staff.

Severus gasped, the wind knocked out of him temporarily. He would have been finished, except for the fact that his staff was a Staff of the Magi, made to repel evil.

The wolf's jaws closed upon the enchanted wood, which seared its tongue and the roof of its mouth, causing it to wail and release the glowing wood, shaking its massive head to ease the burning pain. Spittle flew all over the prone Severus, who at last managed to draw in a gulp of air and breathe again.

"Sev!" Sarai screamed, and she lunged at the monstrous wolf, her lethal sword taking the carnivore through the shoulder blades, penetrating its lungs.

One quick twist and the sword withdrew, and Sarai brought it back for another strike.

The dire wolf staggered, blood spewing from its mouth, and tried to face the warrior, though it had been dealt a mortal blow.

It lunged feebly at the slender half-fae, its jaws snapping shut on empty air as Sarai dodged, kicked it in the ribs, and then finished it with one neat thrust behind the head as it sprawled in the snow, which was now red with blood.

She cleaned her blade in the snow and then bent to help Severus to his feet. "Are you all right, Severus? Did it bite you?"

Snape shook his head, still trying to catch his breath. "No. Staff protected me. Just . . .got the wind knocked out of me, I'll be all right. Help Cafall." He grimaced at the flecks of dire wolf spit and blood that stained his clothes. He was bruised, but otherwise unharmed. Though he knew he would be feeling ten times worse by tomorrow.

The guard captain headed towards the misthound and the wolf he was fighting, only to halt in astonishment. Cafall had managed to climb atop his enemy's back and bite the back of the gray wolf's neck, severing the spinal cord and making the big beast paralyzed. The misthound quickly finished the job with one swift slash, then Cafall stalked away, leaving the dire wolf dying in a crimson swath of blood.

"Good dog, Cafall." Sarai crooned as the dog limped up to her. "Come over here, boy."

Cafall halted and lay down, his shoulder was still bleeding sluggishly and hurt like blazes.

Sarai knelt to examine the wound and the misthound lifted his head and growled warningly. "Easy, boy. Let me see how bad it is."

But Cafall snapped at her.

"How bad is it?" Severus asked, coming up to them.

"It's a deep cut, unless you can heal it magically, we'll have to stitch it." Sarai told him matter-of-factly. "But he won't let me near him to see for sure."

Severus knelt beside the now shivering dog. "Calm now, Cafall," he murmured, lifting the misthound's head. The dog whimpered, his eyes staring straight into Snape's face. "You're hurt, let me help you, understand? It might hurt, but I need to see what that bastard wolf did to you, all right?"

Cafall whined and licked his hand.

Snape nudged Sarai out of the way and examined the wound. As the warrior had said, it was deep, curving from the top of the shoulder and down towards the foreleg. "Sarai, do those dire wolves have any kind of venom in their bite?"

"No, but they have filthy mouths from eating carrion."

Severus nodded. "I'll need to clean this first before I heal it. Hold still, Cafall!" he ordered sternly. Then he withdrew a vial from his emergency potions kit along with a soft cloth.

First he picked up some packed snow and pressed it into the wound, numbing it a little. Cafall curled his lip in protest but remained still. "There's a good dog. Snow to numb it a bit," Snape murmured, stroking the dog's head.

Then, once the snow had melted, he took the potion, an antiseptic wash, and soaked the cloth in it and began gently swabbing the wound. Cafall whimpered loudly, and Severus whispered, "Steady. I'm almost done. Good dog."

The misthound panted, but made no attempt to bite Severus. Severus was his Alpha, and he trusted him, despite the pain the Potions Master caused.

After thoroughly cleaning the slash, which had laid open Cafall's shoulder nearly to the bone, Severus took his wand and chanted a Blood Halt charm and then a Healing charm, closing the wound. There would only be a faint scar. "Done. But we should find a place to rest, Sarai. At least for a little while. Cafall needs to rest for an hour, give the spell time to set and recover from blood loss. Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I'm fine. Let me scout ahead, make sure nothing else was drawn to the fight, and see if I can find a safe spot for us to recover."

"Right." Severus found a jerky treat in his pocket and fed it to the misthound, who stood and made as if to continue following the trail. "Cafall, stay."

The dog turned and gave him a reproachful look.

"Never you mind," Severus scolded. "You might feel good now, but you're not fully healed yet." He summoned the lead and snapped it back on the hound's collar.

Cafall huffed and sat down next to him while Sarai slipped away across the snow, gliding so quickly that she left no tracks, her enchanted cloak allowing her to blend seamlessly into the landscape.

Soon Severus could not even tell where she had gone, and he waited impatiently with the misthound, his thoughts consumed with worry and fear for his children. He prayed they were unharmed, though he knew deep within his soul that the chances of them coming through this ordeal without hurt was almost none. The Winter fae were not known for mercy or consideration, no matter how valuable the hostage or how young they were.

Inwardly he swore at the delay, though he knew it wasn't Cafall's fault. Still, every minute lost finding the children and their abductor was another minute the boys and Nesmay had to endure the wicked practices of Jarillion.

Ten minutes later, Sarai returned. "I found a small culvert within those fir trees," she reported, waving her hand off to the northeast. "It will hide us for awhile, I've warded it."

"Good." Severus said.

"Follow me," she said, and led the way to a small stand of fir mixed with stunted oaks. Once they were among the trees, Severus told Cafall to lie down, then he took a potion from his pocket and drank it down. It was a Muscle Relaxant. He then sat down and rested while Sarai made tea and they munched upon dried fruit and bread.

The warmth of the brazier and his weariness after the battle made Snape sleepy, and he soon dozed off, in spite of himself.

Sarai finished off her own cup of tea and then Severus' as well before snuggling next to him and dozing lightly as well, like any good soldier she took naps when she could, and the wards would alert her if anyone came.

_Jarillion's fortress:_

Harry woke with his head throbbing and a dull aching sensation throughout his entire body. He was lying on a cold stone floor, and he sat up cautiously, wincing as his head protested. He saw Draco lying next to him, dried blood upon his cheek, bruised and frighteningly pale. Harry hoped that Draco wasn't injured too badly, but he didn't want to risk waking up his brother just yet. He glanced about him, shivering slightly, for the temperature was chilly.

He was in a room that was about the size of the kitchen at Prince Manor, but without the huge hearth and the cozy warmth of family that always permeated his home. The walls were unrelieved gray stone with tinges of white and blue veining it, and empty of everything except two straw-stuffed pallets and two thin gray blankets. Harry went to get a blanket to put over Draco, who was shivering in his sleep, and he saw tiny black specks moving on it. Fleas! He thought in disgust, and threw down the cloth. Angrily, he stepped all over the blanket and then shook it out in the corner.

_If this is how guests of the Winter prince are treated, no wonder he doesn't have any friends,_ Harry thought, and then he carried the blanket back to Draco and draped it over him.

He decided to wait a little before waking up Draco, for though pale, his brother was breathing normally. He wondered what had happened to Nesmay, and whether or not his father had gone to search for them yet. Automatically, his hand went to clutch the medallion he always wore under his shirt.

His fingers encountered nothing. It was gone. Frantic, Harry searched through his pockets and his shirt. Could Jarillion have removed it? But no, he recalled Severus telling him when he first received the amulet that it could only be removed by Harry or a family member. Anyone of evil intent trying to steal or take the amulet would be repelled violently by the magic of the medallion. So that left the only other obvious choice, the medallion had fallen off during his fight with Jarillion. Not a good thing, but maybe it would help Severus find out where they had been taken. He wrapped his arms about himself and tried not to dwell on how cold he was.

He had been dressed warmly enough for the current summer weather they'd been having in London, but it was as if he had on nothing at all in this frozen realm. His breath coiled and misted in the air and he wondered how long he had been here. Where was Jarillion? Where was Nesmay? And what would happen to them now? He was suddenly terribly frightened and homesick. He also feared what Jarillion might do to Nesmay. Nesmay was as impulsive and headstrong as any Gryffindor he knew, she was also impudent and hotheaded, what if she made Jarillion so angry he hexed her? Or worse? The way the prince had looked at the girl . . .like she was some kind of trophy or prize to be taken chilled his blood. Jarillion had referred to Nesmay as his bride . . .did that mean the man wanted Nesmay for sex even though she wasn't mature enough for a relationship with an adult yet? The thought made Harry want to puke.

Before his mind could create any more nightmarish scenes, Draco stirred. "Ooh . . . my head!" he groaned.

"Hey, Dragon." Harry greeted, helping his brother to sit up. "You look bloody awful, like something Cafall dragged in."

"Thanks ever so much, little brother," drawled the Slytherin, then he moaned again. "Why's it so damn cold in here? Ahh hells . . .I feel like I'm going to hurl." Draco looked about for something to throw up in, but the room was empty. He then crawled over to the nearest corner and vomited quietly.

Harry went over and helped him to his feet, wishing he had some water and a cool cloth to give his brother. "C'mon, Draco. Let's get you over to the mattress. I think you need to lie down."

"I need some potions too," his brother muttered through gritted teeth. He was woozy and still nauseated. "Where are we?"

"I don't know where exactly. Some place in Jarillion's kingdom, I guess." Harry said, helping Draco to lie down on the straw pallet. "I think you might have a concussion. I wish Dad were here. He'd fix you."

"Uh huh. And then he'd fix Jarillion," Draco said, grimacing. "Where's Nesmay?"

"I don't know that either." Harry said worriedly. "We need to get out of here."

Draco snorted. "That's a brilliant idea, Phoenix. Do you happen to know any spells that you can cast without a wand to blow a locked door off its hinges?"

"Never mind." Harry said irritably. "I wonder where His Iciness is?"

As if on cue, the door to the room opened and Jarillion stepped in, one arm clutching Nesmay, who was wearing a dress of ice-blue velvet with pearls and sapphires on it and a diamond tiara. She looked defiant and scared, but she smiled when she saw the boys. The next instant her smile vanished and she whirled upon Jarillion. "You said they wouldn't be harmed! You two-faced lying son of a pig!"

Jarillion's arm tightened about her and he gave her a cruel smile. "Now, now, my little spitfire, remember our discussion earlier?"

Nesmay went pale. "Yes, my lord." She said meekly. "I . . .I spoke in haste. But you promised that my cousins wouldn't be harmed. That they were your guests."

"And so they are." he purred. "I didn't harm them. Well, my orc soldier might have gotten a little too enthusiastic with his club, but orcs are like that, you know." He patted her shoulder. Nesmay stiffened.

"My brother's hurt. He might have a concussion," Harry interrupted the silver-tongued fae. "If you want us to be hostages, you should at least make sure we're healthy."

Jarillion's eyes turned ice cold. "You dare lecture me, human?" he sneered the word as if Harry was an insect. He wrinkled his nose as the smell of vomit hit him. "When you are so filthy that you foul your own quarters?"

Draco turned his head towards the wall, humiliated.

"It's not his fault, he was sick from being hit on the head!" Harry flared. "And you didn't exactly provide us with a bathroom."

"Mind your tone, boy. There are worse places in Castle Sorrow I could put you." Jarillion warned. "Like the oubliette. Do you know what that is, little wizard? A place of forgetting. You would forget your own name, Harry Snape, if left in the dark for so long."

Harry suppressed a shudder at the prince's casual threat. Jarillion didn't know that was one of his greatest fears, a holdover from his abusive childhood with the Dursleys, to be forgotten alone in a dark place, until he starved to death. Harry made himself glare at the fae lord. "If we're your . . .guests, then might I request a Healer?" he made himself ask.

"There are no Healers here, regrettably," Jarillion said smoothly. "Except me."

"No," Draco hissed in an undertone. "I'd rather die."

"You _might_ die unless you let him help you," Harry insisted. "You could have a bleed on your brain. That orc hit you damn hard with his club."

"Who's to say _he_ won't finish the job?"

"Because if you died, he'd lose a valuable hostage and have gone back on his word." Harry countered. "Even a prince of Winter has _some_ honor."

Draco scowled, then slowly nodded. His head hurt like seven hells and his stomach was threatening to rebel again.

"Well?" asked the prince, smirking.

"My brother says he would like to have you give him whatever medical aid you can," Harry said.

Jarillion nodded and summoned a small vial with a snap of his fingers. "Give him this. It will raise his body temperature so he can endure the cold."

Harry took the vial and gave it to Draco, who drank it down and made a face.

"Tastes like charcoal. Ugh!" But an instant later color returned to his cheeks and he stopped shivering.

Then Jarillion advanced into the room and knelt and put his hands on either side of Draco's face. "Look at me, boy."

As soon as Draco met his eyes, Jarillion's hands began to glow a pulsing blue color. Draco jerked and cried out, but Jarillion held him firmly until the spell was completed. When the fae prince removed his hands, the bruise on Draco's head was gone and so was the cut on his scalp. The headache was gone as well and so was the nausea. "There. Good as new."

"You call that Healing?" Draco snapped. "I thought you'd split my skull open."

Jarillion smiled mirthlessly. "I never claimed I was a skilled Healer. Pain is part of life, boy. Deal with it."

"What do you want with us?" Harry asked, moving protectively to stand in front of Draco.

"Have you ever played poker? Yes? Then you will understand when I say you're my bargaining chips, so to speak. I will ransom you back to the Summer Queen if she gives me permission to marry my sweetmeat here," he indicated Nesmay with a leer.

"You're disgusting!" Harry cried. "She's a kid!"

"Children have been pawns in the marriage game before, young Snape. Look to your own history." Jarillion sneered. "She has much power within her, she could be a great Sorceress of the Night. A fitting partner for me."

"I'd hang myself first!" Nesmay cried. "I'd sooner be a corpse bride."

"That can be arranged!" snarled the fae lord. He shook the small girl fiercely. "You try my patience, Nesmayallindra Highstar. Remember what we talked about before?" his voice was low with menace. "Behave, or I shall make you watch."

Nesmay looked suddenly ill.

"What are you talking about?" asked Draco. "Watch what?"

Jarillion turned back to him. "Why, watch as I try some experiments upon you. Good specimens are so hard to find these days, and the dark magic burns them up so inconveniently." His eyes glittered with malice. "Come, princess. I need to show you around my home. We shall leave these two to muse upon their fate, shall we?"

"Don't listen to him, Nesmay," called Harry.

"No matter what he does to us, don't agree to doing what he wants," added Draco. "_Especially_ marrying the bastard."

"_Enough_!" Jarillion made a flinging gesture and the boys' throats seized up. The next thing they knew, they were gasping for air.

"No!" Nesmay shrieked. "Jarillion, stop! You'll kill them."

The prince laughed. "Hardly. I'm teaching them a valuable lesson. And you as well, you spoiled brat."

Nesmay watched helplessly as Draco and Harry writhed upon the floor, slowly turning blue. She wanted to rip Jarillion's guts out, but was helpless to access her magic with the collar on. All she could do was swallow her pride and beg her hated fiancée to spare her cousins' life. "My lord, _please_."

"Please what?"

"Please show them mercy."

Jarillion grinned. "If I do, what do I get in return? Will you wear my ring, little one?"

"I . . ."

"Look at them. Would you like to see them suffer some more? I can keep stealing their breath away without them dying for a very long time." He snapped his fingers and the two boys gasped for air. Then he clenched his fist and they turned blue again. "Well, darling?"

Nesmay blinked away tears. "All right. Don't hurt them anymore. I'll wear it."

Jarillion reached into a pocket and withdrew a beautiful silver filigree ring with a huge blood red ruby in it. "Put it on."

Nesmay slid the band onto her finger, revulsion cramping her stomach as she did so. The ring shrank to fit her slender finger. "Okay! Now leave them alone."

Jarillion made a flinging gesture and the two wizards could breathe again. "Welcome to Castle Sorrow."

Then he shoved Nesmay out the door and shut it behind him, recasting a Locking Charm as he did so.

"Come, princess. Let me show you my library. I hear you have a fondness for books. I have quite a collection."

Nesmay cringed from his touch as he put a hand upon her arm. "What about Harry and Draco?"

"They'll live. If you please me, little sorceress, I shall let you see them tomorrow. Maybe even bring them some dinner." Jarillion bargained slyly. Then he led her back up the stone passageway to the upper floor of the castle. "And put away any foolish notions you have of anyone from the Summer Court coming to rescue you, Nesmay. My fortress is hidden in the Trackless Wastes and impossible to find unless you have a token from me. So best bridle your defiance and learn how to win my heart, my Summer princess. We're going to be together for a very long time."

Nesmay said nothing, but her heart was frozen with fear. _This is all my fault. Severus, where are you?_

**I apologize for the delay, I meant to have this posted sooner, but I had to spend a few days in the hospital with my nephew who had a very bad concussion from falling downstairs. Thank God he's home now and will be okay. Accidents seem to just plague my family this year, as well as health problems.**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**


	52. A Bleak and Dismal Journey

**52**

**Bleak and Dismal Journey**

The north wind howled down from the snow-capped mountains, bringing with it stinging ice pellets and a wickedly sharp biting frost that rimed the skeletal trees and scrubby bushes. It did not snow, which would have been a blessing in disguise, for then the temperature would have gone up above freezing. Instead the temperature remained at a bitter chill, and despite the magical charms placed over the campsite, Severus and Sarai still felt winter's cold hand cling to them. Cafall fared a little better, since he had a misthound's silky fur to warm him, though he was not exactly bred for such harsh weather.

But he was tired from the battle and his injury, and he stretched out across Severus' feet and fell asleep, just as his Alpha had recommended. The land here was barren of much foliage or vegetation, and there was nothing to block the terrible wind that whipped across the frozen ground. They were somewhat protected by the copse of firs, but even those hardy trees couldn't block the perpetual wind.

The wizard and the warrior slept spooned together for warmth and need, but even so, Sarai still felt the chill of Winter in her bones. In her ran the blood of a noble Summer fae lord, as well as the hardy stock of her mother's Welsh ancestors, but her fae blood made her vulnerable to the Dark Court's chilly welcome. Ordinary snow and cold she could tolerate, even enjoy, but this was different. She shivered despite her warmth charmed clothing, parka, and gloves, shivered even in her sleep.

Severus nestled her closer, since he was mortal, he actually had a higher tolerance towards Winter's weather. He woke briefly, unfastened his heavy coat and bundled the shivering fae Captain close, throwing the rest of his coat over her as well. Practically speaking, he knew that in order to be truly warm, they should have probably gotten naked and snuggled under all the coats, cloaks, and blankets, but he would not risk battling another group of monsters skyclad. So he merely hugged her hard and fell asleep again, their combined warmth keeping them quite toasty.

Dawn broke bleak and icy, but they forced themselves to their feet, and after melting snow for a strong tea with a few drops of summerdew in it and warming some nutrition oat and cranberry bars for breakfast, they quickly packed up their belongings, fed Cafall, and then Severus reattached his lead and asked Cafall to search for the boys.

Cafall was only too happy to reply. He was rested and raring to go, his plumed tail wagging, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. His shoulder had healed without scar or stiffness and the misthound was ready to take up the trail again. Not even the bone-deep chill could dampen his enthusiasm.

Sarai finished strapping on her snowshoes, then took Cafall's lead and began running after the dog. She ran in an economical gliding motion, like a gull skating across a pond, her snowshoes creating soft swooshing motions in the snow, which glistened with a thousand crystal rainbows. The Unseelie Realm was deadly, but it was also beautiful.

The way a king cobra was beautiful.

Severus followed, he was a bit awkward at first, not having practiced traveling in such a manner, but he soon picked up the basics. Even muffled in his scarf and cloak, he was still cold, but moving prevented it from getting a chokehold. The wind was like a living entity, tugging relentlessly at his scarf, his hood, slamming him with frigid blasts, making his lungs burn as he breathed the frozen air. Severus would have sworn that no colder place on earth existed, and he'd be right. Only the Unseelie could live in this hellish land and call it home.

The misthound ran over the frozen ground in an economical lope, carefully conserving his energy. His nose and his otherworldly "quarry sense" told him that his young packmates were very far away and so he was not running full out as he could have. Like his wolf cousins, the misthound knew not to exhaust himself until the quarry was in sight.

Cafall did not like this barren land, he was a creature of green meadows and sunlight, woodland and stream. The lack of cover bothered him, he was uneasy by so much open space, and the wind brought strange scents to his nostrils. Scents that made his nose burn in warning, and the tingle of evil borne on the back of the wind made him long to snarl a challenge to whatever was hidden behind the mountains. He could feel the presence of evil lurking, but never caught a glimpse of it. It made the fur on the back of his neck bristle.

Still he ran on, he would run till he found the boys, or drop from exhaustion. Committed to the search, Cafall would not give up or give in, such determination and drive was bred in him for centuries.

But though his stamina was considerable, even Cafall had to halt, and Sarai made sure that they took a break around midday. Severus glanced back and discovered to his dismay that the swirling wind had scoured away their tracks. "I suppose this is why it's called the Trackless Waste?" he said heavily.

Sarai nodded calmly. "That's one reason. The other is that you can get turned about and lost very easily out here, since it almost all looks the same." She busied herself boiling some water over the brazier and thawing out some beef jerky and sandwiches.

Severus cleared away the snow and enlarged a traveling three-legged stool and sat upon it, blowing on his hands and rubbing them together to relieve himself of the pins-and-needles sensation. His legs ached from the unaccustomed exercise but he was not about to complain. He would endure any amount of discomfort to rescue his children. Odd, he mused, how he now counted Nesmay among his charges, he had grown very fond of her over the past weeks, cheeky brat though she was. He gazed out over the bleak landscape and muttered, "We have to find them. There's no telling what that sick bastard might be doing to them."

"I know. But we also need to rest." Sarai said, coming over and giving him a one-armed hug. "The Dark Realm is most unforgiving of mistakes." She handed him a cup of elderberry tea with honey and a thick roast beef and cheese sandwich.

"I could have done that," he objected. "I don't need you to serve me."

She shrugged. "I'm used to living rough on campaigns. It's second nature for me to tend to my comrades first." She took out her own camp stool and sat down very close to the brazier, eating her sandwich in neat bites with her gloves still on. "You can have a turn come dinner time."

She tossed some beef jerky to Cafall, who gulped it down in a twinkling, then cleaned his bowl of the high-protein dog food as well. Then he drank deeply of the melted snow in his water bowl.

For a moment, neither spoke, concentrating on filling their clamoring bellies while the wind ruffled their hair.

Severus was surprised he was hungry at all, given how upset he was over his children's disappearance. But he devoured his sandwich and tea as if he hadn't eaten in over a month. "What other dangers are there that I need to be aware of?"

Sarai paused before replying. "Let me see. Well, the Unseelie realm is known to be the haunt of dire wolves and frost wraiths, which you've seen. A number of orc clans also make their home here, since they are allies and bodyguards of the royal house. Redcaps also. Kappas and rusalkas dwell in the Frostfell, that's the only river that runs through Winter that isn't half-frozen all year round. There are also banshees and harpies, and I've heard rumors that Baba Yaga and her hut live here too."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Baba Yaga, the evil sorceress of Russian legend?"

Sarai nodded. "The same."

Baba Yaga featured prominently in Russian folktales, she was an old woman who had a magical hut that walked about on chicken legs and could run faster than a gazelle and fly also. The tales said that she usually enjoyed luring heroes into her hut and giving them impossible tasks to fulfill. Occasionally, she helped one or two out in return for a favor, but if she were in a foul mood, she enslaved or ate them. She was known to be especially fond of children and young men.

"Let us hope we don't meet up with her." Severus said darkly.

"Indeed. Some of my kin claim she is Maeve's grandmother. But I have heard she tends to haunt the Deepwood of late."

"How long do you think we've been travelling?"

Sarai glanced at the sun. "Probably four or five hours. Time is difficult to tell in the Waste."

"And it looks like it grows dark early," observed her beloved, glancing up at the pallid gray sky with the weak sun filtering through the thick cloud bank.

"Of course. This is bloody Winter, where the days are short and the nights long and filled with darkness," Sarai remarked sharply. Then she sighed. "Forgive me, I don't mean to snap. It's just . . .this place . . .brings back bad memories."

"You've been here before?"

"A long time ago, when I was foolish young girl, I challenged a minor Unseelie to a duel. At least I thought he was a minor dark fae. It turned out he was Ralston, Maeve's middle son, and since I lost, I had to live for six months as Maeve's 'guest'."

"Your parents permitted that? The queen?" Severus was aghast.

"I was of age and it was agreed as the forfeit of the duel," Sarai said, shaking her head ruefully. "They were under oath to not mistreat me or coerce me in any way. Even so . . .I felt as if I were a prisoner, though I wore no chains and wasn't locked up. I learned much about my dark kin though, and a valuable lesson in when to reign in my temper and think before I acted. Still . . .being back here sets my teeth on edge."

"Jarillion . . .what is he like?"

"Cold and proud and temperamental, much like his mother," Sarai answered. "I didn't really see much of him, he was usually with his tutors or hunting, and not interested in spending time with his brother's captive. He was a pretty boy, and rather spoiled, since he was the youngest, Maeve catered to him more than his brothers. He was fond of hunting and experimenting on . . .creatures. Maeve encouraged this, she wanted a skilled mage son. Jarillion is . . .smart but twisted."

"And Oberon wanted him to marry Nesmay?" Severus voice was sharp with scorn.

"Oberon has never been rational where she is concerned. Not that I'm making excuses, just pointing out facts. He has always resented and hated the child for causing his sister's death, and the fact that she is the daughter of a dark human sorcerer rankles even more. Nesmay is stronger than his son in magic, and it galls them both that a mere half-breed should outstrip a noble fae child. It also galls them that Titania shows Nesmay kindness and consideration. Oberon made it plain that he would have tossed her out of the court and given her to a mortal orphanage were it up to him."

"Perhaps that might have been best. There are plenty of wizarding couples who are childless who would have loved her."

"Who can say? It might have been a good thing in one way and a bad thing in another, considering her father might have discovered her if she lived in the mortal world. At least in Summer she was safe from him, and Titania _does_ love her, Severus. She never would have sent her to you to teach her if she didn't. She wanted the best teacher she could find, and you are it."

Severus gave her a skeptical look. "Fine teacher I turned out to be, allowing her to be kidnapped along with my sons."

Sarai gently touched his cheek. "Sev, what happened was not your fault. Don't ever think it is. If anyone is to blame for this whole mess, it's my cousin Oberon. His jealousy and hate had made him betray his family. When this is over . . .I'd wager he'll have to talk pretty quickly to avert the queen's wrath."

Severus snorted. "She'll have to get in line behind me, you, and Philip."

Sarai scowled. "Right." Then she finished the rest of her tea. "Come. We still have a few hours of daylight left. Let's move. Traveling after dark here is not a good thing."

They packed up their gear and started off again, letting Cafall lead the way.

By the time night fell, both Severus and Sarai were weary and freezing. Only Cafall seemed unaffected by the monotonous terrain and the dropping temperature. The dog foraged ahead to limit of his leash, and would have continued to track through the night if Snape hadn't whistled him in.

Cafall came, but reluctantly, clearly not liking the order.

But the dark surrounded them like a thick impenetrable cloak, and the shadows grew long across the ground. In the distance, they heard the howl of something hunting, perhaps a dire wolf or something else. It sent shivers down Severus' spine, and he gripped the Staff of the Magi tighter. Cafall pressed against his legs, growling softly.

"Easy, boy. Down and guard," he told the dog softly.

The hound obeyed, glaring into the darkness.

He began casting strong protective wards about their camp, wards to shield and hide them, and warn them of approaching danger. Then he started to make dinner while Sarai set up the bedrolls and blankets.

The Blade also wove a framework of fir branches over the bedrolls, to keep out the wind and hail.

They ate, yawning over their meals, and just as Sarai stood up to vanish the dishes, Severus saw black clouds scudding across the waning moon. Alarmed, he stood and peered into the sky. "Sarai, look up and over there and tell me what you see."

The Blade did so, and then swore. "Sun, Moon, and Stars preserve us! A storm is coming."

"How bad?"

"From the size of those clouds, a real blizzard."

Severus glanced about at their pitiful shelter. "Can we find another place to shelter?"

"Where?" his fiancée asked. "Do you see a house anywhere?"

"No."

"We'll have to make do with branches and spell wards." She began calling more branches to her, weaving swiftly four walls and lashing them together with rawhide and magic.

Severus cast every ward against bad weather, cold, and snow he knew, but he feared it would not be enough. Some sixth sense told him this was no natural storm.

They moved everything into the small shelter, then crawled inside with Cafall, who was now whining and whimpering.

Severus stroked his ears. "I know, boy. I don't like it either, but we can't outrun it."

Together dog, fae warrior, and Potions Master huddled amid blankets and prayed the storm would pass them by quickly. Severus had lit up his wand, so at least they weren't in the dark.

Outside the wind picked up, shrieking like a trio of banshees, and snow began to fall. Within an hour, they could no longer see anything but a wall of white, as the blizzard unleashed its fury, imprisoning them inside the tiny shelter.

**Please forgive the short chapter, but I burned my left hand and finger at work today and cannot type anymore. The next chapter will be longer, as I shift perspective back to the children and Jarillion.**

**Please review! What do you think will happen to them or Severus and Sarai?**


	53. Frost Creeping

**53**

**Frost Creeping**

_Jarillion's fortress_

_Somewhere in the Trackless Waste:_

Harry no longer knew what day it was, or even the time. Inside the cell, there were no windows to see out and his watch had stopped working soon after Jarillion had visited them the first time. There was little for them to do in the cell except try and keep each other's spirits up and speculate on whether or not Jarillion would try some harmful magic on them, or if Severus and Sarai had learned of their capture and were searching for them. Both had tried to Summon their wands using wandless magic to no avail. Harry was unsure if it was because there was some ward over the cell that prevented them from using magic or if the wands were out of range of the spell.

"But we won't give up," Draco said determinedly. "We'll keep on trying to figure a way out of this bloody icebox."

"Right," was all Harry said, though right then their chances looked very bleak indeed. He shivered slightly and clutched his skimpy blanket to him. Jarillion had not been to see them in he couldn't figure how long. A day? Two days? So Harry had no opportunity to harangue the Unseelie about giving them better blankets and such. Draco had been given a potion to enable him to endure the cold, and so felt it less, but Harry had nothing and was always this side of frozen. He made himself meditate and he practiced _kin-sa-dor_ with Draco both to keep himself alert and fit and to stave off the cold. Harry swore that he could feel the frost creeping through his blood and down to every bone in his body.

After doing some elementary warm-up stretches, Harry said, "I hope Nesmay is all right. I'm really worried about what that beast is doing to her."

"I know. Me too," Draco said, his gray eyes darkening. "Jarillion reminds me of Lucius. Only worse. Lucius only had one human lifetime to grow cruel and hard. That one's had several."

Harry nodded. Draco was right. Jarillion was positively scary, maybe even more so than Voldemort. Harry suspected the Winter prince had levels of deception and cruelty to him that made Voldemort look like Father Christmas. "If only we had our wands. I hate feeling so . . .powerless."

Draco sighed. "Tell me about it. At least if I had my wand I could hex that smug expression off his face. How long do you think we've been here?"

"Hard to tell. If I had to guess . . .I'd say not more than a full day and night."

"How do you figure that, Harry?"

"We've been fed twice. Once after we woke and again today. So if last night was supper, this morning must be breakfast." Harry assumed.

"It feels like we've been here forever," groaned his brother.

"Yeah. Time creeps by when you're locked up." Harry said knowingly, having been locked up throughout his whole childhood.

"I wonder where old Icicle is?" Draco mused. "Off torturing the servants? Cutting the wings and legs off shimmerlings?"

"Merlin only knows," Harry made a face. "It's too bad we couldn't contact Smidgen."

"Why can't you? Through your link to the manor?"

"Because . . .one, I'm not on the manor grounds, and two, shimmerlings can't trespass on Winter lands. That was an agreement in the Accords between the courts a long time ago."

"How do you know all that?"

Harry shrugged. "I read a lot about the fae culture over the summer, before you came. And Smidgen confirmed it when I asked her."

"Bloody hell! There goes another brilliant idea shot to blazes," Draco grimaced. "Do you think Dad's looking for us already?"

"Of course. But whether or not he can find us is another matter," Harry frowned, looking down at his palms.

"If he has help from Sarai, he'll find us." Draco said confidently, though he sounded more hopeful than he really was. He had a bad feeling that their imprisonment was only going to get worse.

As if his thoughts were a catalyst, the door to their cell unlocked and swung open and Jarillion himself strode in. The handsome fae was dressed in skintight frost blue leggings with knee-high boots of frost serpent scale accented with the fur of a white bugbear. His tunic was of soft deerskin, also bleached white and accented with sparkling crystals along the hem and collar. A silver diadem with a large sapphire set in the center bound his flowing silvery locks. He gave them a parody of a welcoming smile. "A fair morn to you, children. Are you enjoying my hospitality?"

"Yeah, sure. This is the best jail cell I've ever been in," Harry quipped insolently. "Not!"

"What have you done with Nesmay?" Draco demanded.

"Nothing," Jarillion drawled lazily, his eyes half-lidded. He reminded Draco of a cobra deciding whether or not to strike. "Why are you determined to think the worst of me?"

"Umm . . .maybe because you're Unseelie and the sworn enemies of my family?" Harry growled.

"Oh?" Jarillion raised an eyebrow."How so? I have not called out a vendetta against the Prince line, boy. Just because I am of Winter does not mean we cannot get along. Was that not the purpose of Queen Titania's invitation? To promote peace between our realms? Have you not figured out by now that Winter and Summer are two sides of the same coin?"

"I got that, but you're on the wrong side, my lord." Harry sneered, looking very much like his father then. "You kidnapped us and our cousin against our will. Aren't _you_ afraid you've broken the treaty between the courts?"

Jarillion looked supremely indifferent. "Abduction is an accepted form of courtship among the fae, young Prince. Just ask Captain Valinek and she'll tell you some fool ballad about her parents, and how her father stole away her mother from her mortal betrothed."

"But Sarai's mum never loved the man she was supposed to marry," Harry interjected. "Nesmay sure as hell doesn't love you."

"Love is mortal twaddle," Jarillion snorted. "A royal marriage is always done for advantage, not foolish emotions. Nesmayallindra knows this. She will soon grow to accept her fate."

"That's what _you _think," Draco laughed. "Keep dreaming, prince."

Jarillion scowled. "I expect better of one who was raised as highborn, Draco Malfoy. Oh yes, I know who you are, boy. I made it my business to learn about you and your mortal family. I know that your father was a follower of the dark path and taught you as well."

"That was a long time ago, Jarillion," Draco said, deliberately omitting any kind of honorific. "I don't use those spells any more. And Lucius is _not_ my father, he disowned me. Severus Snape is my father."

Jarillion waved a hand at the blond wizard dismissively and focused upon Harry next. "As for you, Lord Snape, I hear you used to be a . . .shall we say . . .receptacle for the spirit of an infamous dark wizard named Voldemort. The same one that sired darling Nesmayallindra."

Harry felt something twist inside his stomach. "I'm not any more. And he's dead. What do you care, anyway?"

"Why, cousin, I care because it means we have something in common. We are both touched by darkness, and have felt the night's seductive call. What is it they say among mortals? You can take the wizard away from dark magic, but never remove the dark magic from the wizard." Jarillion suddenly laughed.

"What are you saying?" Harry whispered in horror. "You're lying!"

"Me, lie?" Jarillion looked stricken. "Now you've insulted me. You know perfectly well that the fae cannot lie."

"But you can bend the truth," Draco spat. "What do you call that then?"

"Necessity." He gave them a chiding look. "Why make this hard on yourselves? You are my guests and I dislike treating you this way."

"Then let us go home." Harry snapped.

"I cannot do that. Not until Nesmay and I are married."

"You can't keep us locked up here forever," Draco half-shouted, struggling to keep from strangling the smug bastard.

"Can't I?" purred the Unseelie prince.

"No. Not if you want us to still be alive as a hostage," Harry said shrewdly. "We need blankets and other things to keep warm."

"Done." Jarillion snapped his fingers and their straw pallets were suddenly transformed into huge four poster feather beds with rich velvet comforters and acres of fluffy pillows. Their bare stone floor was covered with a thick furry rug and a table appeared in the middle of the floor laden with food. "There, you see? I am not quite such a monster. The blue vials contain a potion that shall enable you to tolerate the cold here."

Draco's eyes narrowed. He knew that someone of Jarillion's ilk never gave anything for free to anyone. "Real nice? What do you want from us?"

Jarillion smiled oily. "Do you like these things? All I ask of you is this—let your dark side roam free for an hour. And convince Nesmay that it is in her best interest and that of the Seelie court that she marry me. Do that and this room shall be yours."

Harry had been scanning the room with his Sorcerer's Sight. Then he blinked and rubbed his eyes. "You haven't given us anything real, Jarillion. That's nothing but Glamour."

"Now. Do what I want and I shall make it permanent." Jarillion persuaded.

"Never again," Draco vowed.

"Go to hell," Harry muttered, glaring at him. "We're not becoming your slaves."

Jarillion clucked at him the way he would a misbehaving dire wolf. "Ungrateful brat! This is why mortal and fae should never mix. Because the result is brain damaged children like yourselves, unable to recognize an opportunity when you see one." He snapped his fingers again and the Glamour vanished, returning the cell to its former appearance. "Very well. If this is what you choose . . ."

"I'd rather freeze than join you," Harry cried. "Let us see Nesmay."

"No," sniggered Jarillion. "Naughty defiant children don't get their wishes granted. All they get is locked in their room." He shook a finger at them chidingly.

"Why won't you let us see her?" Draco argued. "What have you done to her?"

"If you've hurt her—" Harry began, his Snape temper sparking.

Jarillion smirked. "You'll what? You impotent whelp, do you think your pitiful threats frighten me? I am the lord and master of this estate, and my every whim is law here. You exist here because I wish it so, little Prince. Remember that, boy. Nesmay is my bride-to-be . . .and how I treat her is no business of yours. Perhaps if you consider my offer and accept it . . .I shall permit you to speak with her. If not . . .you shall be very sorry." He gave them a shark's smile, all teeth and menace. "Watch your step, little wizard. I am losing my patience."

"I already told you, you bloody damn—oof!" Harry gasped for breath when Draco elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"What do we get in return if we consider your offer?" Draco interrupted before Harry could make the Unseelie angry.

"Smart boy. If you agree to become my apprentice in the Dark Arts, I shall allow you free run of my castle. I shall not need to lock you up here," Jarillion purred. "And you can study with sweet Nesmay as well."

Draco frowned hard. "We'll think on it. In the meantime, could we have some decent food, Your Highness? Pig slop doesn't agree with us."

"Orc pudding is not to your taste?" laughed the prince. "Very well. A truce. Here." He clapped his hands and bowls of steaming chicken and dumplings appeared, as well as hot crusty rolls dripping in butter and honey and tall glasses of merlinna juice. "Just remember . . .what I give can also be taken away." He pointed a finger at Harry, who was just about to bite into a roll, and the roll became infested with maggots.

Harry dropped the roll with a cry, gagging.

As soon as he had done so, the maggoty roll vanished.

Jarillion tisked. "Wasteful. Have you no appreciation for my largesse, little Snape?"

Harry glared daggers at him.

Draco nudged him again. Harry managed a thank you, but he refused to apologize.

"Very well. Think carefully about my offer. It shall not come again. I believe you both have great potential . . .to become masters of the Dark. All you have to do is quit fighting against it and accept it."

With that, Jarillion turned and exited the cell. The door slammed shut with a snap.

As soon as the sound of his footsteps had died, Harry rounded on Draco. "What the hell were you thinking?" he snarled, his green eyes blazing.

Draco returned his glower. "I could ask the same of you, little brother!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're letting your emotions cloud your thinking," returned the Slytherin. "If we go along with him . . .or pretend to . . .we might have a chance at getting out of here with Nesmay."

"Go along with him?" sputtered Harry. "Draco, he wants us to become dark wizards! I can't do that!"

"Yes, you can. Just like you pretended to be your relatives' slave all those years."

"That _wasn't_ pretend! It was real!"

"What you did was real, but you never surrendered to them. Not in your heart, where it counted. Just like I never became a true follower of Voldemort. Harry, we have to agree. It's our only chance to get out of this prison."

"He'll never buy it. And I don't know if I can stomach him."

"You can and you will, Harry Albus Snape. Shove that Gryffindor pride up your arse, brother, and act like a Slytherin. Like Dad did all those years as a spy. How do you think he survived? By pretending to be a Death Eater. If he did it, so can we."

"For how long?"

"I don't know. As long as we need to, I guess."

"Let me think about it," Harry conceded. Though Draco's plan made plenty of sense, he hated to knuckle under to that slimy scum's demands. He cast a wary eye at the food and picked up the glass of merlinna juice cautiously and sipped it. When it didn't turn to piss or vinegar on his tongue he swallowed. "Hope this isn't poisoned."

"Ha! At least we'd die with a full stomach," chuckled Draco. "He wouldn't waste his precious magic on poisoning us. He needs us alive . . .to ransom and subvert."

"For now." Harry said darkly. He slowly ate a spoonful of chicken and dumplings. To his shock, it actually tasted wonderful. "Huh. This is good."

Draco nodded, having his mouth full. "Yes. This is one thing he didn't lie about to us. Then again, like I said, why bother? I don't trust him as far as I can spit, but if he wanted us dead we'd be six feet under already." He ate a roll and licked his fingers.

Harry ate mechanically, because he was hungry, though he had to admit the food was really good. Who would have guessed the Unseelie could cook? Finally he set down his fork and said, "Draco, I'm afraid. What if . . .we start to lose ourselves in the dark magic?"

"We won't. I'll make sure of it," Draco promised. "Just follow my lead, okay?"

Harry nodded. "All right. I really hope Nesmay is okay, that he didn't hex her or beat her or something."

Draco did not answer, but he silently agreed with Harry. _Please, Nesmay, don't lose your temper. Not till we can pay Jarillion back, that is._

High above him, in an elegant opulent suite of rooms, a fae princess paced like a caged leopard, her purple spiked hair bristling like a hedgehog's. If Jarillion thought she would meekly surrender and become his bride and sex slave, he needed to have his brains bashed out. Every time the Winter prince came to her, she felt an overwhelming urge to vomit. She managed to restrain herself by the slimmest of margins. But she still wished she could tell him that the sight of him made her puke.

He was like a lurker, all serenity and pretty flowers to lure you in and then . . . SNAP! You were lunch. Nesmay was not fooled by the prince's sudden desire to give her things, she knew what he was about. He was playing with her, like a shimmerling did to a sparrow. Only this time, the sparrow wouldn't go meekly to her death, but fight every inch of the way. _Jarillion, you're a viper. Better watch out though, because I'm a mongoose._

**I apologize for not updating sooner, but these holiday hours at my store are killing me! Please excuse any mistakes and let me know what you think now!**


	54. Dire Wolves, Banshees, & Tygrens, oh my!

**53**

**Dire Wolves, Banshees, and Tygrens, oh my!**

_Somewhere in the Trackless Waste:_

Severus used his staff to poke a hole in the woven shelter's roof, so that they would not suffocate themselves when they used the brazier to sustain heat inside the shelter. The brazier did not smoke like a fire, but the escaping warmed air caused tendrils of steam to trickle upwards and across the snow-laden sky. The blizzard dumped over two feet of snow upon the land before blowing itself out late the next day.

Severus, Sarai, and Cafall spent half of the time trapped in the shelter sleeping, since that was the best way to conserve energy and body heat. They ate small amounts of food when they awoke and drank tin cupfuls of melted snow. Severus used special charms afterwards to relieve all of them of uncomfortably full bladders, since there was no room in the tiny shelter to find privacy to go to the bathroom or to let Cafall outside. Once all the basic necessities had been attended to, there was little to do but wait out the storm. Sarai snuggled beneath Severus' chin and told him amusing stories of her time as bodyguard to the Highstars, and some stories about her childhood, which had been filled with various mishaps and adventures.

"It seemed I was forever getting into one silly scrape after another," she chuckled. "My cousins knew I was vulnerable to being taunted about my swordplay, and so they were always challenging me to fights . . .or urging me to challenge older fae to duels or even races on horseback. And like a stupid idiot, I fell for it most times."

"Did you win?"

She shook her head. "Not always. I didn't have the experience then. Now though . . .I could take many of them." The wind whistled forlornly about the snow-encased shelter, sounding like a child sobbing. "So you see, Sev, I wasn't always the wise warrior. Like your sons, once I too was a hotheaded impulsive girl. But I soon grew out of it, especially after apprenticing to my Master."

"That's a relief," he muttered, smirking.

She elbowed him in the ribs. "Get off your high horse, Snape!" she ordered gruffly. "Your temper led you into plenty of trouble when you were young, I'd wager."

He pretended to be insulted. "Me? Are you implying that I leaped before I looked, my lady?"

"I'm not implying, I know. You told me so yourself, Severus. Your ongoing war with those spoiled brat Marauders kept on because your temper led you into fights with them."

He chuckled ruefully. "All right. You have me there. I never could resist a good scrap with Potter and Black. I was lucky Lily was usually around to rein me in."

He went quiet for a long moment, recalling the vibrant young witch who had always been able to make him smile and chase away his demons. He rarely discussed Lily with Sarai, he didn't want her to feel as if she was competing with a ghost for his affection.

Sarai gently touched his cheek. "She was a good friend and partner to you, Sev. And she gave you the best gift she could . . .her son to cherish and to love. There is no greater gift than that, my love."

"No," he agreed softly. He loved Harry more than he ever thought possible. Harry, Draco, and Nesmay. All held a special place in his heart, and always would. Even so, he still longed for another child, one that he could raise from the beginning. "I hope that someday, you shall give me that gift as well, Sarai." He turned his head slightly and their mouths met in a breath-stealing kiss.

"One day, perhaps, I shall," she murmured once he had relinquished her mouth. "I would love a daughter or a son with midnight hair and eyes."

"So would I. If and when we ever get out of here and find my sons, I promise I will do all I can to make that wish come true, Lady Valinek."

"I shall hold you to that, Severus my heart." Then, as if to accentuate her words, she wrapped her arms about him and held him close, their breath mingling in the still air.

"How long do you think it shall be before the storm ends?" he asked then.

She shrugged eloquently. "It's hard to tell. If this is a natural storm and not one called up by an Unseelie weather worker, it could end tonight or tomorrow. If it's a mage-called one . . .it could end in a week."

"Bloody hell!" he swore. "I pray it's the former. We can't afford to spend a week trapped here like rabbits. Anything could be happening to the children while we're stuck here."

"We'd have little choice in the matter," she remarked dryly. "The elements conquer even the most skilled swordmaster . . .or battle mage." She patted his shoulder. "Relax, Severus. Don't go borrowing trouble till tomorrow. These sudden storms are common here. It is Winter, after all."

He swallowed back the sharp retort that sprang to his lips, he had no need to unleash his temper on Sarai, it was not her fault that he kept imagining all kinds of dreadful things being done to his children. "Forgive me, Sarai. It's just . . .I fear for them . . ."

"I know. I'm afraid too. Jarillion is unpredictable and sly . . .he is like a runespoor, full of venom and hate. He has always envied Titania and her family and will do all he can to hurt them and anyone close to them." She shifted slightly, tucking her leg more comfortably in Severus' lap. "But we can't dwell on that now. Otherwise we shall go insane with fear." She threaded her fingers through his hair. "We must wait out the weather and then, once this has stopped, we shall be free to hunt down the miserable scum and make him pay for his audacity tenfold."

Severus allowed her words to comfort him, her advice had always been sound. He still couldn't shake the foreboding in his bones that something horrible was happening to the children, but as Sarai had pointed out, there was nothing he could do about it now. He shut his eyes and called upon all of the patience he had learned as a spy years before, and vowed that whatever harm Jarillion had done to the boys and Nesmay would be healed and the prince would learn the folly of harming a member of his family.

His chin dropped to rest upon the top of Sarai's head and he slept again.

When he awoke, the blizzard had ended and they could finally try and dig their way out of their frosty prison.

SSHSDM

It took an hour or two to dig out, even using magically heated shovels, the snow was thick and deep and they had to be careful to shore up the path they were digging so it didn't collapse and bury them, but at last they were free and Cafall barked happily and ran in circles upon the snow, leaving pawprints across the virgin surface while Snape and Sarai gathered their belongings and strapped on their snowshoes again. Severus gave Cafall Harry's scent again and the misthound tore off across the valley, baying loudly.

"Damn!" the sorcerer swore as he realized that he hadn't attached the leash to the eager dog before telling him to hunt. He started to call Cafall back.

Sarai put a hand to his mouth. "Don't. Leave him go. We can follow his tracks in the snow and he won't run too far ahead. He needs to hunt and burn off some of that excess energy."

"And what if he runs so far ahead he forgets us?" demanded Severus, furious at his oversight.

"I have a horn from the Royal Kennelmaster," Sarai twirled a small silver horn charm on a thong about her neck. "He'll come in for this. No hound bred in the royal kennels can ignore it, they're trained as puppies to obey the song of the horn."

"Where did you get that?"

"It was a gift. I was often on hunting expeditions with Balin and Titania, and the Huntmaster thought it prudent for me to be able to call the dogs back if necessary." She tucked the horn pendant back beneath her tunic. Then she began to glide across the snow.

Severus followed in her wake, trusting her to scout the lay of the land, since this was her realm, after all, and she was more experienced and familiar with its traps and pitfalls. It was one of the things he loved best about her, the way she was so capable and efficient, when she did something, she did it well, and could be relied upon to do so again and again. There were very few people, male or female, that Severus admired. Sarai was one of them. He also loved how she never made him feel stupid or awkward, even when he had been her student. He didn't feel ashamed admitting his shortcomings to her, and she had never looked down on him for losing his temper or acting snarky. She accepted him, flaws and all, and that meant more to him than anything. He in turn tried to do the same for her.

Most of all, he wanted to share his life with her as a husband and wizard, he wanted what could have been all those years ago with Lily, had she lived and Dumbledore not meddled in his life. It was all he had ever wanted, and the one thing he seemed to be denied, again and again. But perhaps this time would be different. Perhaps.

He chanted another Warming Charm over himself as he half-glided through the snow. The temperature must have dropped again. Small prickles of ice pelted his skin and he drew his scarf more tightly about his face. He had always detested the cold and here he was slogging through snow and ice like some crazy crosscountry skier. He focused his mind on following Cafall's prints and on enduring the bitter cold, anything to keep his mind from drifting to his sons and Nesmay, and what horrors the Unseelie might be putting them through.

_Don't think about that now. Just focus on finding where they've been taken. You can take payment out of Jarillion—and Oberon's—hide later. Right now you need to survive long enough to get to them._ Those words he used as a mantra to drive his weary body forward, his iron determination eclipsing the ache in his back and legs, enabling him to ignore the high howl of the wind, which echoed all around him, reminding him of dire wolves on the hunt.

Sarai slowed down so abruptly, he nearly crashed into her back and sent them both flying. "What's the matter with you?" he snarled, twisting to avoid her and causing some new muscles to ache unexpectedly in the bitter cold.

She held up a hand, listening intently, her green eyes narrowed. Then she turned to him and snapped, "Run, Severus! They've picked up our trail."

"What has?"

"A pack of dire wolves. Bigger than the last one we faced."

He paled. "I thought . . .that was just the wind."

She smiled grimly. "An old trick. Come!" She began to run, rather awkwardly, through the snow, cursing the stuff inwardly with every step she took.

Severus followed. "What about Cafall?"

"He's far ahead, probably far enough to avoid them. I don't want to call him back, he'll only want to challenge the pack, and that sort of foolishness will get him killed."

"What if the wolves go after him?" Severus asked, his breath hissing in shallow gasps.

"They won't. We're the easier prey. Predators always go for the weakest."

They ran in silence for several more minutes, the howls of pursuit thundering in their ears as the dire wolves drew closer and closer.

"How did they find us? That storm should have covered our scent."

"Bad luck. They were out hunting and stumbled on our tracks," the warrior answered. She darted a quick glance behind her. "Hurry, Severus! We don't want to get caught in the open. We need a wall at our backs."

He understood the reasoning behind her words, but wondered all the same where they could find a wall in this desolate place. The landscape was covered in snow as far as the eye could see, but nowhere was there a tree in sight, unlike the Seelie Realm, where trees, shrubs and hedges grew in abundance. "I don't think I can conjure one up," he called to her, a half-smile quirking the corner of his mouth.

"You don't need to," she returned. "Keep moving! We ought to be close to the Vale of Sorrows."

"Vale of Sorrows?"

"A stand of woods where it's said that unquiet spirits roam at will, haunting anyone who dares step foot in it."

"Have you been there before?"

"Once. It's not a pleasant place, but I'd rather take a chance with spirits than with a full pack of blood-enraged dire wolves." Sarai told him. "We killed their kin, most likely, and now they're out for blood."

Severus quickened his pace, though running in snowshoes was bloody damn hard. The toe of one caught in a hidden patch of icy snow and he stumbled, going to one knee. He swore angrily at his clumsiness and tried to get to his feet.

Sarai whirled and came back to him, grabbing his hand and hauling him upright. "You hurt?"

"No. I just tripped." He admitted, flushing.

She gave him a crooked grin. "Be careful. Try and watch your step."

He glared at her. "Yes, _Amarsi_ Valinek," he said, his tone faintly mocking.

She waited, watching as he started to jog again before she fell in beside him. "Ten more minutes and we'll be at the vale. Can you work a few Concealment Charms to confuse them?"

"Yes. But they're more effective standing still."

Onward they raced, their snowshoes throwing up little puffs of powdered snow. Just as Severus made out the shapes of some tall dark oaks, rearing up like twisted sentinels against the leaden sky, the dire wolves came into sight. They were some thirty yards back, their teeth bared and dripping with yellowish drool, their eyes burning with the need to rend and tear the puny humans to shreds for daring to kill members of their pack. They howled and began to sprint across the ground, moving at a terrific pace.

Severus turned and ran, chanting a spell to make him run more quickly, but even so he feared it wouldn't be enough. Not nearly enough. He felt the spell drawing upon his magical reserves, turning his body into a racing machine. He sprinted past Sarai and was almost ten feet from the first trees when he heard a dire wolf yelp in pain.

He tossed a glance over his shoulder and saw that Sarai was shooting them as she ran backwards, her ease with a bow the result of endless grueling hours of practice when she was a child and adult. All Seelie trained with a bow from the time they could draw a child-sized one, their famed accuracy was a result of aptitude, eyesight, and endless practice.

Five or six of the nearest wolves fell to the snow, arrows embedded in their chests and heads, never to rise again. But the rest, some twenty strong, closed the distance with leaps and bounds.

Sarai emptied her quiver of a dozen arrows, then slung her bow across her back and ran. She had nearly made the sanctuary of the trees when a dire wolf lunged at her from behind.

"Sarai, get down!" bellowed Snape, and then he cast a Blasting Curse and the dire wolf was blown to pieces, along with a hefty chunk of the earth.

Sarai rolled to her feet and dusted herself off, resuming her quick pace until she too had reached the clump of trees whose trunks intertwined so much that it was hard to find a place to slip through them. She removed her snowshoes and Severus did likewise, shrinking them and stowing them on a clip on their belts. Once within the grove, Sarai felt a bit safer, and mopped sweat from her brow. "That was close. Nice spell, beloved."

"Too close," he muttered. "Now what? I don't like the feel of this place. It makes my skin crawl."

"Mine too. The dead walk here. Among other things. But the dire wolves won't come through here."

"You sure about that?" Severus asked.

"Look." She pointed through a small gap in the black oaks.

Severus saw the wolf pack draw up short and pace about the perimeter of the trees, whimpering and whining, but refusing to go any nearer. One bold young wolf ran up to a tree and tried to gnaw it, only to cringe backwards and yelp loudly in pain, his mouth reddened as if he had burnt it. The others, wiser than the foolish cub, stayed well away from the trees.

"I see. The vale has its own protections." He turned away then. The earth beneath his feet was not frozen and there was very little snow. Tendrils of mist crept up to twine about their ankles like a lazy cat asking to be petted. "Where to now?"

"Now we have to sit and rest for awhile." Sarai said pragmatically, walking always deeper into the wood. The Vale of Sorrows had an air of perpetual sorrow and darkness about it, like a living thing it pressed against them, seeking the warmth of their bodies and the sparkle of their magic. It was almost as if it was alive.

The air felt heavy and there was an odd dry smell about it, like the musty scent of an old tomb. The trees were so close together that only slivers of sky could be seen above them, and there was no sound of anything living save the crunch of their boots upon the decaying branches beneath their feet. No birds fluttered above them, no squirrels played in the branches, no rabbits scurried through the hedges, avoiding pursuit from a hungry fox or weasel. It was as though this were a shadow of a real vale, or one where, as rumor would have it, only the dead called home.

Severus drew his cloak about him tightly, and felt the magic he had cast to make himself swifter fade. He then cast a quick Concealment Charm, hoping to avoid drawing attention to himself. The branches overhead rattled and clacked, as if whispering to each other about the unexpected trespassers in their domain. The Potions Master felt as if there were unseen eyes watching him. "Sarai . . .do you get the feeling we're being . . .watched?"

She nodded, all of her instincts warning her to stay alert. "Yes. There are things here that will observe us. Hopefully that is all they will do." She closed her hand upon the hilt of her sword, but did not draw it. "They say there are a family of banshees in the vale, three sisters who loved the same man, or so the legend goes. But none of them would give him up to the other, even though he claimed to love the youngest only. In the end, their jealousy and hatred destroyed him, and then they destroyed each other. But when they died, they discovered they were cursed to haunt the Vale of Sorrows, to forever mourn what they had done, and what they had lost. It's said that they hate the living, especially handsome men who have known true love, and will do all in their power to steal the man away and drain him dry with their voice and their kisses."

"How pleasant," Severus said sarcastically. "Have you ever seen them?"

"No. But I was not with you then," Sarai hissed. She rummaged in a belt pouch and produced some earplugs and cloth. "Here. Put these on and wrap the cloth about your ears and head. That way you won't be affected by a banshee wail or persuasion."

Severus did so, feeling a bit like Odysseus trying to ignore the sirens as he sailed past the island. Now, his hearing muffled, he found he could walk more confidently. "What about you?"

"I am a half-fae woman. The banshees might hate me for what I have, but their cries and voice will not bespell me."

"Too true, sister," a low voice hissed, and suddenly a ghostly form materialized in front of them.

The banshee was somewhat translucent, her body clad in a kind of cloak and a scarf of mist that swirled about her limbs. Her face was neither young nor old, but some ageless inbetween stage, her hair was like finely spun strands of night, swirling against alabaster skin. Her eyes were dark pools of envy, and she stared at Severus hungrily.

"Why not take off those silly wax things and listen to my song?" she purred, circling Snape like a cat. "I'm sure you'll like it, everyone does, my magnificent man. I shall show you things you've never even dreamed of."

Severus could hear her voice like a low buzz in his ears, it was flat, lacking the vibrant tones of a human voice. He felt a slight compulsion to tear off his headband and rip the earplugs out, but then Sarai touched his hand and the compulsion dissolved.

The banshee scowled. "Lovers! So very annoying. Perhaps I shall immobilize you with my scream?"

"All we ask is that you allow us to take shelter here for a time," Sarai bargained. "Then we shall be on our way."

"And why should we agree to this, Seelie trespasser?" sneered a second voice.

Another banshee appeared, this one wearing a tattered blue gown and bearing old bleeding scratches on her shoulders and wrists. She glared hotly at her sister, her hair was also midnight dark, but her eyes were moss green. "Why shouldn't you share the fate of so many others who dared trespass in the Vale of Sorrows?"

"Yes, why should you have a lover when we do not?" pouted a third, she blinked in wearing a dress that seemed made of stars, her hair was piled atop her head and she had a twisted smile on her face.

"Because I appreciate him where you did not," Sarai answered smartly. "I did not treat my beloved like a prize bone or an object to be won."

Furious, the banshees sucked in their breath, their eyes burning red like flame, their faces twisting into grimaces of terrible anger. "How dare you!"

"We loved him!"

"But he didn't love us enough!"

"That's why he never made a choice and he suffered for it!"

Then they opened their mouths wide, as if they were going to swallow the sun, and screamed.

The scream went on for what seemed like forever, their mouths were holes in their ghostly faces, holes from which spewed a deadly toxin.

Severus slammed up his Occlumency shields and backed away, he couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was obvious what they were trying to do.

Their wails reached a crescendo and then died down.

Sarai winced, wondering if she hadn't gone deaf. She might be immune to the feelings the banshees projected, but she wasn't immune to the sheer volume. Her eardrums were aching. The banshees tugged on her hair and tried to rip off Severus' headband.

Sarai drew her sword, which was made of a blessed combination of silver and iron alloys called silveron. "Get away from him! Before I stick this through you and really make you howl."

"Really!"

"How rude!"

"What a termagant!" The one in the tattered dress cried. She swirled about Severus languidly. "You could do much better, handsome. Much better."

"No thank you. I'm betrothed," Severus said, shivering, for the banshee's presence projected an icy draft.

"So? Dump her and marry me, sweeting. I'll show you a real good time."

"No doubt. All the way to hell and back," Severus snorted.

The banshee giggled. "But at least you'd be warm, luscious one." She had her mouth practically touching his ear, but when he went to push her aside, his hands went right through her.

"No fair! I saw him first!" screamed her sister, and she pushed the dress-wearing banshee away.

Severus stiffened. "Stop it! I am not here to amuse you or to become one of your silly quarrels."

"Why are you here, sugar?" purred the last one.

"I am searching for some members of my family that were brought here by a Winter prince."

"Oh? Which one?"

"Jarillion."

The banshees gasped and clung to each other. "Ooo, he's a wicked one, he is!"

"Gotta watch out for him—he's colder than ice and more poisonous than a basilisk."

"Bad to the bone!"

"Once he has someone in his clutches . . .they're finished."

"Like poor Vonn."

"Better forget them."

"Never," Severus said firmly.

"Poor deluded mortal," purred the scarf-wearer. "You shall end up like all the others, bones buried beneath Jarillion's feet."

"Such a pity."

"What a waste."

"Take off those earplugs. We'll give you a concert like none you've ever heard before," pleaded the youngest one.

"Yes!"

"Do it!"

They wailed and pleaded, begged and cajoled, their ghostly fingers plucking at Severus' hair, an unmistakable hunger in their faces.

Until he repelled them with a Repelling Hex and Sarai thrust at them with her sword, making them squeal and drift back.

"Nasty warrior!"

"May worms rot your bones!"

"May your hair fall out and you lose your looks and run crying into the street because your lover no longer adores you!" Tattered Dress spat. She wrapped her arms about herself, as if chilled, and then threw her head back and shrieked angrily.

Sarai winced, but she kept her sword trained upon the banshees, knowing full well that despite the precautions, Severus could still be vulnerable to them. They were very strong, stronger than she had thought. Their screams, though they did not make her go mad or want to become their slave, did hurt her sensitive ears. She could feel her eardrums pop and throb and something wet trickled down the side of her neck. But she ignored it, keeping her sword trained firmly upon her opponents.

Severus saw to his horror that a trickle of blood was oozing from Sarai's ear. Without stopping to think, he thrust his staff at the banshees, shouting, "Shut up, you bloody wailing cowards! No wonder you couldn't find a man and keep him, you selfish hags. Now . . .BACK OFF!"

He thundered those last words, yelling loud enough to be heard over the dreadful cries, his staff sizzling with pent up magical energy.

The three sisters yelped and streaked off, their wails dying away. Severus waited for a heartbeat before turning to Sarai. "Sarai, your ear's bleeding. I think they might have ruptured something with their horrible screams."

She touched her ear gently, and came away with blood on her finger. "Ah, hells." She removed a handkerchief from her pocket and blotted her ear.

"Let me." Severus plucked the handkerchief from her fingers and gently swabbed her ear clean. "I have an Ear Remedy that might help."

After he had administered the potion, Sarai said she felt better and they should continue onwards.

By the time they had walked through the entire vale and emerged back into the Waste, it was nightfall again.

"Where shall we make camp?" asked Severus, knowing they couldn't search any longer today, both were worn out and exhausted.

"Away from here. I don't trust the Screaming Sisters," said the warrior.

They walked over to a large outcrop that pointed upwards like a shard of crystal into the sky.

"Here." The Blade said. Then she pulled the horn from her tunic and blew on it.

Crystal clear notes sounded upon the air.

"Will he be able to hear that? He must be miles away by now."

"Yes. No misthound trained by the Royal Huntmaster will ever fail to respond to the horn's call. It's compulsive." Sarai said.

They started to pitch camp again.

Severus had just begun casting the first set of wards and heating some water over the brazier when he sensed something behind him. He half-turned and caught a glimpse of something sleek, orange and black striped, before it landed upon his shoulders and sank its fangs into the side of his neck.

He screamed and went to yank it free, when a silver dagger thudded into it and it fell, releasing his throat as it did so.

"Sev! It's tygrens!" shouted the fae warrior, before spinning about to slice the head from one of the vicious beasts.

Severus chanted a Blood Halt spell before attacking another with his wand, using Sectumsempra. Tygrens were nasty cat-like creatures who enjoyed stalking unwary travelers and then attacking them and eating them. They were very fond of human flesh and usually attacked in a mob. They were about the size of a large wildcat, savage and wicked.

As the Potions Master fended off a third attack, he saw flickers and flashes as more tygrens blinked into the fray. Before he knew it, they were surrounded by over thirty of the creatures, and all of them wanted but one thing . . .to kill the prey that had just appeared in their territory. Over a dozen pairs of eyes glowed an eerie yellow as the tygrens circled them, keening a cruel sonata, and licking their lips eagerly.

Pickings had been slim in the Waste of late and the tygrens were slowly starving and being forced to move out of their territory in order to find prey. Their bodies were sinuous and long, their tails curved and crinkled as they stalked about, claws glistening, their black stripes like jagged tears in their bright orange fur.

Severus backed slowly towards the brazier, his back against Sarai's. He did not need anyone telling him they were now in very deep trouble. Tygren packs were like sharks, they went into a frenzy and tore apart anything in their path.

Now they had surrounded the wizard and the warrior, hissing and growling, their tails twitching as they crouched.

They sidled to the left, paws moving along the ground.

Step. Step. Step.

One fell with Sarai's dagger in its throat.

Another collapsed when Severus hit it with a Bone Break curse.

Some of them turned and began to feed upon the bodies.

Severus began to hope they might manage to get out of this with their skin intact.

Until the tygren sprang upon them, en masse.

**By now you should expect this sort of thing, so I won't apologize for the ending.**

**I don't know when I'm going to find time to update this next week, so you'll have to wait and see if Sev and Sarai walk away from this encounter. **

**Hopefully, my schedule won't be too crazy and I can write more next week.**

**Thanks to all who have been reading and reviewing and please keep doing so . . .even if it's to say you want to strangle me now. This story now has over 2000 reviews! Thanks everyone!**


	55. Blood Trail

**55**

**Blood Trail**

Severus managed to get a Shield Charm up, but unlike previous foes he'd faced, the tygren's claws and teeth were magical and managed to penetrate the magical bubble after a few minutes. Then they were mauling him, and his blood stained the snow violent crimson. Sarai was somewhat protected by her fae armor, but the tygren were many and her sword could not block them all. Some managed to slip under her guard and then she too was bleeding from many bites and scratches, borne down by the weight of the pride.

She managed to cast a brief Repelling Curse, but only half the tygren were affected, and she was warrior enough to know they were still in dire straits, outnumbered and wounded. _Is this how it ends for us?_ She wondered fatalistically. _Is this what was meant, that Severus and I shall go to our deaths in this frozen hell?_

She threw herself towards her beloved, who was bleeding heavily from a deep bite to his bicep, trying as best she could to shield him from the worst of the rampaging animals' attacks with her armored body. She could feel herself start to grow weak from blood loss, the tygrens' scrabbling with their deadly claws at her chainmail shirt, emitting that awful howl.

"Severus," she panted, gazing deep into his eyes.

"Sarai," he gasped, meeting her gaze with the same knowing intensity. "I have one last great spell within me. If I can manage to summon my magic . . ."

Before he could finish his sentence, they heard the loud bell-like tone of a misthound baying.

Cafall, though intent upon following his quarry, could not resist the siren call of the bugle, it compelled him to return to Severus. And once his nose had caught the bitter stench of the tygren, who were natural enemies of the misthounds, and heard the ringing tones of the bugle, he had come at a full out run to rescue his Alpha.

Head up and floppy ears flying, Cafall crested the top of the rise and peered down at the seething mass of tygrens below. The dog shook his head and snarled, showing all of his formidable fangs. The scent of blood was borne upon the wind, and Cafall knew instinctively that his alpha was injured.

Now, normally, a misthound would have hesitated attacking a whole pride of tygrens. But Cafall knew his duty and he threw back his head and howled, as fierce a howl as he could manage. A fullgrown misthound's bay could startle prey into a panic, and though Cafall had not yet reached his majority, his need called forth an adult misthound's bay.

Out of his throat rose a chilling awful wail, one that caused the tygrens to spring up and run as quickly as their paws would take them away, all save those who had tasted blood. Those remained, lost in bloodlust. Though Cafall did not know it, the rock that overlooked the camp created a sort of tunnel that made his howl echo and thus the tygren thought more than one misthound was upon them. When faced with greater numbers, tygren were cowards. Thus the rest of the pride fled, save for ten who had blood upon their jaws.

Seeing the number of tygren reduced considerably, Cafall gave another loud howl and sprang off the rise, landing in front of them, teeth bared. A few of the tygren whirled to face their ancient enemy, leaving Severus and Sarai to finish off four of them.

The six cat-like creatures hissed and swiped at the misthound, Cafall dodged neatly, then lunged, catching one in his jaws and giving it a terrific shake that broke the creature's back. He then turned to deal with the others.

Severus, bleeding extensively from several wounds, managed to slam his staff into one of the tygren's snarling maw, making the creature screech and stagger away, burned by the enchanted wood. He staggered to his feet, leaning upon Sarai, who in turn leaned on him.

A tygren sprang at her, she moved her sword in a lazy thrust and skewered it.

But the move cost her. She could feel the wound in the back of her neck reopen and start to bleed, a warm trickle down her back. "Only . . . two more . . ."

Severus nodded through gritted teeth. The tygren bites and scratches stung and burned, he feared they might have been poisoned, or perhaps as a human he had an allergic reaction to them. Many dark fae had that effect upon mortals. "One for you . . . and one for me." He managed to reply, then cast a quick Burning Hex.

A third tygren was immolated.

Sarai used _kin-sa-dor_ to slam the fourth tygren in the head and kill it.

Meanwhile, Cafall had slain the five other tygren, then came to nose Severus and whine comfortingly at him.

Severus' hand closed over the dog's sleek head and the wizard whispered, "Good boy, Cafall. Such a good dog . . ."

Then he sagged to the ground, taking Sarai with him.

The half-fae warrior was dizzy and burning with fever, but managed to hang onto consciousness long enough to bandage the worst of Severus' wounds before succumbing to her own. The two lay sprawled together upon the ground, and Cafall nudged their still forms, then pointed his nose towards the sky and howled poignantly.

SSHSDM

_Jarillion's fortress:_

Jarillion did not return to see the boys in the cell until the next morning. By then, Draco had conceived of a plan that he thought might be cunning enough to keep the fae lord from assuming total control over them. But he refused to let Harry know exactly what it was. "You'll see, little brother. Just trust me."

"I do, but why can't you just _tell_ me what you're doing?"

Draco shook his head. "It's better if you don't know everything. You're not exactly discreet sometimes. Just trust me."

Harry opened his mouth to say something nasty, then shut it. He really had no other choice, and of the two of them, Draco knew more about dealing with evil despots.

An evil-looking dwarf wearing a muddy colored tunic and a red cap brought their breakfast tray this morning. Unlike previous times, the food was not gloppy overcooked porridge, but fresh bread, butter, honey and fruit, along with a steaming pot of tea. The boys were hard pressed not to gobble the food like starving pigs.

The dwarf set it down and said in a gravelly voice, "Lord Jarillion will see you after you have broken your fast." He eyed them up and down, scowled, licked his lips, then spun about and slammed the door behind him.

Harry stared after the retreating dwarf and shuddered. "Now, why do I get the feeling that he wanted to have _us_ for breakfast?"

"Because he's a redcap, Harry, and they eat people," answered Draco, spearing a piece of melon with a small fork and eating it.

"_That_ was a redcap?" Harry repeated. "But he didn't look . . .I always thought they were bigger . . ."

"No. But they're plenty scary. They have teeth like a shark's, rip you down to the bone in seconds."

Harry had been about to bite into a strawberry. He halted and cried, "Gross! You just made me lose my appetite."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Toughen up, little brother. You'll see plenty of worse things, and discuss them, once we're dark apprentices."

Harry swallowed and then made himself eat the strawberry, though the image of a redcap covered in blood and munching on a finger made him want to retch. But he soon discovered that his macabre imagination was no match for his growling stomach and in the end he managed to eat several pieces of bread smeared with honey and butter and eat more fruit, plus drink two cups of tea as well.

As soon as they were finished, the tray vanished itself and there came the sound of the door unlocking.

Draco and Harry straightened as the master of the fortress entered the cell.

Jarillion was wearing a different midnight-blue tunic and silvery hose, but otherwise looked as unruffled and calm as he had the other day. "Fair morning to you," he greeted with a saccharine smile. "I trust you slept well? Yes? Good, then you've had time to ponder my offer."

"We have, my lord," Harry said, keeping his tone respectful, though the effort made his stomach cramp.

"Very good," Jarillion's smile grew more pronounced. "Might I know your decision then?"

Draco gathered himself. Then he spoke. "We have decided to join you, my lord. We would like to learn the dark magics. Would you teach us, if it please you, Lord Jarillion?"

Jarillion grinned openly in triumph. "Ahh. Well said, young Malfoy. I knew you'd come round. Nothing satisfies your craving for power like the dark magic. Nothing. Once you've tasted it, it's like an addiction in your blood, you will always long for it."

"Very true, sir," Harry agreed, struggling to keep the bitter bile from spewing out of his mouth.

"I shall teach you how to control that longing," promised their new master. "But first, let us remove you from this hole and get you cleaned up. I don't allow my apprentices to smell or look like dungheaps." He gestured and the cell door swung open.

They followed him out of the cell and up the stairs silently.

But when they had reached the upper story of the fortress, Draco said, "Sir, might we be allowed to see our cousin and share our good news with her?"

Jarillion scowled, his mouth twisting into an ugly line. "She's being difficult, I thought to forbid all contact with you till she learnt better."

"Perhaps when she hears what we've done, she'll be more willing to listen to you, sir," suggested Draco quietly.

"Mmm . . .very well. Ten minutes, no more. I'll send Rage with you to show you the way. He'll guide you around the fortress too." Jarillion snapped his fingers and the redcap who had brought them breakfast reappeared and bowed low.

"You called, Great One?"

Jarillion told him where to bring the boys, then said, "I have some urgent business to attend to, or else I would show you about myself. Do try to remember where everything is and don't get lost."

Then he vanished, leaving Draco and Harry to the tender care of a man-eating dwarf. Rage snorted and then stomped up the corridor, beckoning them to follow.

After a brief moment, they did, conversing in whispers. Harry glared at his brother. "How could you just agree that way? Without setting any terms or . . .or something?"

"But I did set up terms," objected the blond boy.

"Like what? Seems like you just agreed and that was that."

"Think like a Slytherin, Harry. We'e subtle. What were my exact words?"

Harry thought about it. "_We have decided to join you, my lord. We would like to learn the dark magics. Would you teach us, if it please you, Lord Jarillion?"_

"By making us do the choosing, he can't bind us to him. I also said we would learn dark magic, not use it. There's a difference. Then **I** asked **him** to teach us, so he'd have no need to write out a formal contract." Draco explained.

"Contract?" Harry looked alarmed.

"Relax. The dark fae only have contracts with those they consider dangerous enemies. To Jarillion, we're an opportunity waiting to happen. So let's try not to disappoint him, okay?"

Harry nodded, wondering if his nightmares, once a thing of the past, would start up again. Then he hurried after his brother, whispering under his breath, _Please Dad, come and get us out of here, before Draco's Slytherin side gets us into more trouble._

SSHSDMSV

Cafall's forlorn howls echoed across the desolate Waste, as he mourned his companions, whose life forces dwindled as he watched, unable to help them. The big dog felt terribly guilty and upset that he had failed in his duty and kept licking first Severus and then Sarai's face, trying to waken them to no avail.

The howls told anyone in range that a misthound mourned a comrade and they brought someone to investigate.

Cafall looked up and growled softly as a strange round thatched hut came into view, walking ponderously upon two stout chicken feet. The feet were broad and strong, with an extra spur on the back like a fighting cock had.

There came three sharp taps and the hut lowered itself to the ground, and out of it stepped an old woman, bent with age, wizened and carrying a gnarled staff. She had long stringy white hair and robes the color of ash. But her eyes were ageless, deep pools of sapphire blue, that fixed upon Cafall with such authority that he stopped growling and backed away.

"There now, puppy," the old woman laughed. "Don't fret, I can fix them." She bent over Severus and Sarai, poking them lightly and muttering things. "Hmm . . .might take a bit longer than I expected. But the best things take time."

She removed some kind of jar from her robes and sprinkled the contents over them. Then she gestured with her cane and both wizard and warrior were floated inside the hut.

Cafall whined and barked uneasily.

"Here, puppy!" the old witch whistled.

Cafall whimpered, but then jumped into the hut and the old woman, whose name was legend still in many parts of the frozen north, shut the door and tapped the roof three times with her stick.

The bird legs were retracted and suddenly they were flying high above the clouds, and heading towards Jarillion's fortress.

"Your debt has come due, pretty boy," cackled the witch, stirring her cauldron as the house traveled. "And someday soon I shall collect on it."

Baba Yaga, the Witch of the North, chuckled softly. Sooner or later all heroes came to her. These were a bit worse for wear, but still useful.

No sooner had the magic hut lifted off, then something large and hungry emerged from the shadows and bent its head to lick up the bloodstained snow.

**Hopefully you were all surprised there at the end. In case you are unfamiliar with Russian folklore, Baba Yaga is a very powerful witch who is usually bad but can do occasional good things if she chooses to or if it benefits her. **

**Hope everyone had a great holiday, we got 30 inches of snow here in NJ and are still trying to dig ourselves out!**

**Please review and let me know what you think!**


	56. Evil is a Choice

**56**

**Evil Is A Choice**

_Jarillion's Fortress:_

Nesmay felt like throwing the crystal vials of perfume and jars of silken glitter cream across the room and watching them shatter. But she restrained herself, because while doing so would serve as an instant gratification, it would also look as though she were a mere spoiled brat and she had her dignity as Titania's granddaughter to maintain. So she contented herself with scowling at items and thinking of the revenge she would take upon the Winter prince when she was free of the slave collar she wore. Oh, then he would see the wrath of a Seelie princess!

Her hands flew automatically to the collar and she fought to keep from clawing at it. Any attempt to use her magic on it or use her magic without Jarillion's permission would make the collar activate and give her fiery jolts of pain until she stopped. Any attempt to remove the collar by other means would result in it knocking her out, ensuring she couldn't remove it herself and another might only do so if they could break the enchantment, which was a master level and so strong only her grandmother might have a hope in hell of doing so. Or Queen Maeve.

Nesmay put her hands down at her sides and considered her prospects. She had few options at the moment, and none of them would give her her freedom or revenge. She had to be very careful what she promised Jarillion, for a promise made was binding for a fae and even a half-fae was subject to that rule. That was why she fought so hard not to agree to his marriage proposal, for she could not break her word like a human might afterwards. She knew that Jarillion could keep her in the fortress for a long long time, until she was old and gray, and wear away her resistance. She was frightened of him, not just because of what he could do to her, but what he might make her do . . . namely tempt her to use the dark magic that was the legacy of Voldemort.

_I will not give in and I shall never give up. I am Titania's granddaughter and no measly Winter prince shall make me forsake my honor and my word,_ she vowed silently. She had been telling herself that ever since her arrival, though the words were beginning to feel a bit hollow by now. Her captivity was wearing on her highstrung nerves. She had never been totally without recourse to her magic before, and while once she might have thanked the gods for losing her disruptive uncontrollable human magic, now she wished for it, so she could use it to blast Jarillion off the face of the earth.

She closed her eyes and sat crosslegged on her bed and tried to meditate, to find her center and inner peace, as Severus had taught her, but it eluded her. She was too nervous, too keyed up, the specter of her blood father haunted her. How long did it take for him to go dark? How long was it before the magic took him over and made him into something his own mother would not have recognized? How long would it be before she succumbed to the same fatal taint and became a Mistress of the Dark?

The knock on the door shocked her out of her blue funk. She snapped her head about, wondering why the hell Jarillion was knocking. Had he suddenly grown some manners? Somehow she doubted it. "Come in," she called brusquely.

The door opened and in walked her cousins. "Draco! Harry! Starseekers!" she exclaimed, nearly crying with relief. They hadn't been harmed, not that she could see, and they had come to see her.

"Hey, brat. How's the ice prick been treating you?" asked Draco, smirking.

"I can't believe you're here!" she cried, hopping off the bed and running to hug them. "How did you get him to let you out?"

"Uh, that's a long story," Harry hedged, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Nesmay felt alarm bells pealing madly in her head. "What did you agree to, Harry Snape?" she whispered, paling. For she knew, better than any, that a fae did not do favors, not without a bargain being struck in return. And Jarillion did not have a sympathetic or nice bone in his body.

Draco shut the door. "Nessie," he began, sitting down on the bed.

"Don't!" she snapped, whirling on him. "Don't try and patronize me, Draco Malfoy! What bargain did you strike with the bastard? Because he does nothing without benefit to himself."

"We agreed to become his apprentices," answered the Slytherin.

"You _what_? Why? How bloody stupid could you be?" she cried. "Now he has you . . . he _owns_ you . . .Lady Bright . . .!"

"Shhh . . . it's not what you think," Draco hissed. "We made no promises, struck no bargains and signed no contracts. We just made him think we wished to learn dark magic . . . we asked him to take us as apprentices."

"And you think that will stop him from turning you into a puppet? Draco, you don't know him. He's clever and terribly wicked and he lives to corrupt people like us."

"Do you think I don't know that? You forget, little cousin, who I grew up with. My father was as evil as Jarillion and he wished me to be just like him. But I managed to survive him just fine and I'll survive Jarillion too. What's more, I'll make sure you two will as well."

"How?"

"By teaching you how to play the game. To agree and then not agree."

Nesmay shook her head. "I can't lie. I can only skirt the truth. And I refuse to bind myself to him, to be his slave and plaything. I can't do it!"

"Nobody says you have to," Harry soothed, coming over to her and putting an arm about her. "Draco just means you have to . . . to pretend to agree with him."

"And learn dark magic? I can't do that. Don't you understand? The dark magic is seductive, Harry, worse than the worst human addiction. And I'm already susceptible because of who my father is. I can't risk it."

"You have to." Draco urged. "We need you to be with us, so when the time comes for us to escape, you'll be free and ready."

"Escape? With this on me, I can go nowhere past the castle gates," she gestured angrily at the collar about her neck. "And the only hope I have of getting it removed is to agree to his proposal and he can go screw himself before I'll do that. Or become what my father was. Severus said . . . he said evil is a choice, and I'm _not_ choosing it."

Draco sighed. The overwrought girl was not getting it. "Look, Nesmay. Forget about damn Voldemort and listen to me. Can you do that? Good. I'm not saying you have to agree to anything, just pretend to. Make up your own terms for him and see if he'll bite. He obviously wants you for a reason, I know it's twisted and sick and I'd love to cut off his nuts for it, but you can use that weakness to your advantage."

"Yes, by staying away from him." Nesmay snapped.

"No, by driving him crazy," corrected Draco. "Have you ever read Homer's _The Odyssey_?" At Nesmay's blank look and Harry's startled one, Draco rolled his eyes. "All right, I forgot you didn't have a classic education in Greek mythology. Look, Odysseus' wife, Penelope, was left running his kingdom when he was lost for ten years coming back from a war with Troy, and she had dozens of suitors wanting to marry her. She didn't want to marry them, for she loved her husband and was faithful to him, but she couldn't refuse them outright because they'd start a war and take her outright. So she devised a plan. She agreed to choose a suitor after she finished embroidering a tapestry of her husband's life. But she made sure she took forever to finish it, by picking out all the embroidery she'd done on it every night, so it was never done, and she kept the suitors at bay till her husband came home and won back his kingdom. Now, if a mere Muggle woman could do that, why can't you? The fae are the best at telling half-truths that I know."

"You want me to pretend to . . . to accept Jarillion's suit and then pretend to learn dark magic?" she repeated incredulously. "I can't do it."

"Sure you can. Just tell Jarillion that you can't marry him or get betrothed until you've mastered all his dark secrets. And then you can play dumb and keep forgetting how to use the dark magic or something." Draco encouraged.

"It won't work."

"Why not?"

"Because once I choose to use the magic, who's to say I'll be able to stop? Don't you see what's in me?" she whispered, her voice full of fear and self-loathing. "My father was one of the worst of your kind and what if I've inherited his taste for darkness? I've always sworn to never be like him, and now you're asking me to learn dark spells?"

"Learning's not the same as using," Draco pointed out. "And you're not going to become a dark wizard because of your father. Mine was one too and I turned away from the dark path."

"And how long do you think you can keep up this charade in front of Jarillion? He's not stupid, Draco, just obsessed. How long can we last before the darkness takes us?"

"Long enough for Dad and Sarai to come for us," Harry spoke up then.

"Do you really think they're coming?" Nesmay asked in a small voice. "How could they ever find us? This is the Trackless Waste, no spell can pinpoint our location and you've lost your amulet. Or did Jarillion take it? I don't see it on you."

"I don't know where it is. I think it fell off before they captured me," Harry admitted. "But don't count out Dad and Sarai, Nesmay. They'll find us, even if it takes them years. Trust me."

"And trust me to keep us safe," Draco assured her. "I learned deceit from a master. You won't go dark."

"So you say."

"You're too young to be so cynical," Draco remarked.

"I know what I know," Nesmay shot back. "If you're going to promise me something, promise me that you'll kill me before I become another Dark Lady. I'd rather die than become _him._"

"No!" Harry cried.

"Promise me," Nesmay ordered. "Or I won't make any deal with Jarillion at all and he can keep me locked in this tower till hell freezes over. Promise me, Draco!"

"I . . . I don't . . ." Draco began, looking deep into her eyes. In them were determination, fear, and a kind of desperate, all-or-nothing courage. He saw that she would not change her mind, and everything depended upon her having free access to the fortress. "All right."

"Have you frigging lost your _mind_?" Harry screamed. "How could you promise that?"

Draco grabbed his furious sibling and dragged him to a corner of the room. "Because I'm going to make damn sure I never have to follow through on it, you dimwitted dinglebrain! Now quit flipping out like a girl!"

"Hey! I heard that!" Nesmay cried indignantly.

Draco glared at her. "That'll teach you to eavesdrop then."

Both Harry and Nesmay flashed him looks of extreme ire.

Draco winced. He hated the role he was forced to play, but someone had to do it, and as a Slytherin he had plenty of practice in being hated and mistrusted. Not that Harry or Nesmay hated him, but he could sense that right then neither of them liked him. "Get ready," he ordered sternly. "You have to be convincing when you tell Jarillion you agree to the betrothal if certain conditions are met."

Nesmay trembled. "If this fails . . ."

"It won't."

"If something happens to her because of your stupid promise, Draco, I'll make you regret it for the rest of your life," Harry growled.

"Which won't be too long, since I'd turn my wand on myself before I'd use it on her," Draco said icily. "Once I'm dead, my promise is null and void."

"I'm sorry," Nesmay sniffled. "It's because of me we're in this mess."

"Now don't try and take all the credit, Nessie. Harry and I were getting into trouble like this long before we met you. Ask anyone." Draco joked. He squeezed her hands. "It's really Jarillion's fault, for not taking no for an answer and being a prick. Which is something he's going to regret, or my name's not Draco."

"Don't let me get lost."

"I won't. If you'll do the same for me."

Her hand closed over his. "All right."

Harry's closed over the top of hers. "We'll all look out for each other."

Nesmay gave them a thin smile. "And may Fortuna favor the foolish." She hugged both boys for a long time before squaring her shoulders and saying in her best queenly tones, "Tell Prince Jarillion he may attend me, my lords."

Both Harry and Draco smirked at her haughty tone and sketched her bows. "At once, Your Highness."

"You are dismissed," Nesmay said, pretending to look down her nose at them.

They departed, and she clasped her hands together and prayed they were doing the right thing. _Please, please, let him not suspect, let him believe that he's finally won me over._

Five minutes went by, then ten, until she heard the slight scuff of boots on the tower stairs. She knew Jarillion was deliberately being noisy, since a fae can move like a ghost when he wishes. He wanted her to know he was coming. She shivered all over, then mentally steeled herself to play the role of enlightened captive.

Jarillion threw open the door with his usually disregard for privacy. "Hello, princess. Your cousins tell me you have finally come to your senses." He eyed her critically.

Nesmay dropped him a quick curtsey, careful to keep her eyes down, so he wouldn't see the hate shimmering in them. "I have, my lord. My . . .cousins have convinced me that accepting your suit would be for the best . . .if you will agree to the following condition."

"A bargain, my sweet?" chuckled the dark fae, sounding like an indulgent lover. "What terms do you set?"

Nesmay bit her lip, then said breathlessly, "I would ask first that you wait till I'm of age to . . . to make me your wife in truth."

"Is that all?" Jarillion seemed very amused.

"No. My second condition is that you also wait until I have learned certain arts fully. You are a prince of the Unseelie, a master of the dark. It would not be meet, my lord, if you married me before I became a Dark Mistress. A marriage should be of equals, do you not agree?"

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Jarillion asked suspiciously.

"B-because my cousins told me that compromise is in my best interest," Nesmay said carefully. "I hate being locked up, I need to feel the sun and wind on my face. It's been driving me mad being stuck in here. If I agree, you said before you would let me out. They told me of their own decision and said I would do well to follow their example. I trust them. They have always tried to give me good advice. Will you accept my terms, Prince Jarillion?"

"You're a haughty little piece, aren't you? Like grandmother, like granddaughter, I suppose. I shall enjoy taming you to my will, Nesmayallindra." He smiled, an eager sadistic smile that made her blood run cold. "I shall teach you to enjoy obeying me, of becoming my betrothed. Y Your father's blood will out. Like calls to like and dark to dark. Yes, I accept your terms. By the time I am through with you, sweet, you shall be a dark princess to rival my ancestor Maleficent. And your cousins shall be lieutenants my dark army."

His hand darted out, grabbing her chin and jerking it up. "Now seal the bargain, love, and kiss me."

Nesmay blinked back tears, for Jarillion's fingers dug into her skin like claws. She stood on tiptoe and kissed the Winter prince lightly on the mouth, feeling the familiar tingle of a bargain struck and accepted. She struggled to hide her revulsion and gave him a quick smile.

Jarillion pulled her to him and kissed her hard. She fought to keep from screaming. Then he released her so abruptly she fell backwards. "Your first lesson, my dear." He chuckled mockingly. "I like my princesses eager. Now quit sulking and come down for supper. I tire of only redcaps for company. Afterwards, I shall teach you how to summon the dark magic, along with your cousins. We shall see who has the most potential for destruction." He turned to leave. "Make sure you dress appropriately. Wear the blue dress in the wardrobe."

Then he was gone.

Nesmay clasped her knees to her chest and whimpered, "Grandmother, forgive me. Severus, forgive me." She had done it, but her triumph left only the taste of ashes in her mouth.

Evil is a choice, and she had willingly placed her feet upon the dark pathway. She only hoped it would not consume her, or her cousins. She rose then and began to dress for dinner, hearing her father's mocking laughter in her head. _My daughter, indeed!_

**_I apologize for not updating for so long, but I was trying to finish my Christmas fic Season of Warmth and also had to finish a story for a fic exchange before Feb 14th. Now that all my previous commitments are met, I will have time to work on updating all my current fics. _**

**_Thanks to all my loyal readers for your patience and please drop me a review so I know you're still reading this._**

**_Next: Baba Yaga sets her own conditions for Severus and Sarai . . .what will her help cost them?_**


	57. Baba Yaga's Bargain

**57**

**Baba Yaga's Bargain**

The odd scent of astringent herbs intermingled with savory beef stew tickled Sarai's nostrils and caused her to open her eyes. She couldn't figure out why she was smelling good things cooking in the middle of the Wastelands. Slowly, she glanced about, catching sight of the round walls of the hut, which were dark with age and smoke that rose to the thatched rafters and eddied about the open hole in the roof. Upon the walls were strange and bizarre things. A snarling wolf's head, the painted mask of a Carnival reveler, a bone rattle, a colorful braided wreath of ribbons, a cloak of feathers. There was a hearth just beyond Sarai's feet, where a black kettle was simmering over a small fire. To the left of that hung cooking utensils on a string, and several frying pans. To the right was a brazier that burned some sort of herb that made Sarai's nose twitch, it had a sharp, pungent aroma. Swords and axes, daggers and bows decorated the opposite wall, some were rusted and old, others looked as if they had just come new from the forge.

Sarai's eyes narrowed and she could sense the tang of magic from some of the blades. She saw her own sword and Severus' staff as well as her bow, leaning against the wall of weapons. Seeing the Staff of the Magi made her recall that she had last seen Severus bleeding away his life into the snow. She quickly whipped her head about, searching for her betrothed.

The sudden movement made her dizzy and the room spun about her. Inwardly, she cursed herself for her stupidity and cradled her head in her hand, trying not to throw up. She groaned softly.

The noise brought the swift patter of feet and suddenly a warm tongue laved her cheek. "Hello, Cafall." She murmured, closing her eyes as the misthound whined and his tail thumped against the floor. "How are you, gallant hound?" she whispered in the liquid language of the Seelie.

"That great lug would eat me out of house and home," came an ancient voice, scratchy with disuse. "He's a bottomless pit and then some! Hah!"

Sarai opened her eyes, but this time did not try and turn her head quickly. She gently pushed Cafall's muzzle away and slowly began to sit up. She was stiff and sore but she considered those pains nothing to be troubled over, especially when she knew that she had been close to death. "Most misthounds are ravenous after a long hunt," she said, still speaking in the tongue of Faerie. "Whom am I addressing, Old Mother?"

Baba Yaga cackled, her blue eyes dancing with amusement. "Ah, your mother taught you manners, Captain Valinek. It is always best to be polite to strangers, even if they be old and withered."

Sarai's eyes narrowed. The old woman was not wearing a Glamour and yet she wavered in the warrior's magical Sight, telling her that here was a force to be reckoned with. "Appearances can be deceiving, Old Mother. Especially in Winter's realm. Foul is fair and fair is foul," she quoted an old adage.

"Just so, young one!" Baba Yaga smirked, pleased. "Do you not know me then? Once I was known far and wide and my name spoken in hushed tones. Once mortals called me Mother Russia."

Then Sarai knew her for certain, and said, very cautiously, "You are Baba Yaga, the Witch of the North." She carefully pushed herself upright on the pallet and eyed the old woman warily. Baba Yaga was not known for her altruism, though she did not serve Maeve or the Winter Court.

The crone gave her a small bow. "Just so, my lady. You do know that it was my Art and skill which kept the breath and blood in your body?"

Sarai nodded. "Yes. And now I am in your debt. As is my betrothed, the heir to Prince Manor, Severus Snape." She turned her head, this time to the right, and saw to her vast relief Severus stretched out on a similar pallet next to her. _Thank the Sun, Moon, and Stars! He is alive!_ She felt the unaccustomed sting of tears, but quickly blinked them away. She could not afford to show any weakness to their unexpected rescuer.

"Now there's a toothsome lad!" purred the witch, ogling the Potion Master's lean form. She had removed his outer robe and loosened his shirt, and he looked particularly handsome and yet endearingly vulnerable lying there. "Were he not promised to you, girlie, I might have had my wicked way with him!" she cackled. "But alas, the bond between you is too strong for me to manipulate."

_Thank the Bright One for that!_ Sarai thought in relief. "Severus' heart belongs only to me now." She stated. "I do have a question. Why save us?"

"You don't believe I did it out of the goodness of my heart?" asked the other shrewdly.

"I know better. You are not of the fae, and so you can lie, but I know that you saved us for a purpose. How may we pay off the debt?"

"All in good time, my dear! First, let us have some tea and black Russian bread with butter." Baba Yaga said.

Sarai agreed, knowing that once she ate of the bread, Baba Yaga could not harm her as per the laws of hospitality. She wondered at the old crone's willingness to offer her refreshments, for the Witch of the North was no fool.

Baba Yaga clapped her hands and the teapot grew feet and poured a measure of strong black tea into their mugs. Sarai added some cream and sugar to hers and spread butter on the bread and bit it. It was delicious, rich with currants and walnuts and slightly sweet.

"There! Now that we have broken bread, I am honor-bound not to harm you."

"True. But though you yourself may not, you could always pay someone to do the deed instead."

Baba Yaga clucked at her in disapproval. "So suspicious! And after I saved your lives too!"

"For what purpose?" asked the half-fae warrior. "What's in it for you?"

"Quite a bit, actually. But it can wait until your sorcerer is awake to discuss the particulars." Baba Yaga drank down her tea, then beckoned a clear glass bottle off a shelf and poured a measure of it into her cup. Then she tossed it back, smacking her lips. "Ahh! There is nothing like a good vodka. Why don't you wake the pretty boy in the traditional manner, Captain? With a kiss of true love?"

Sarai felt a flush start up her cheekbones, despite having commanded and ruled over men who were far more crude and explicit. She quickly rolled over to where Severus lay, quickly assuring herself he was in a deep restorative sleep and was not injured any longer. The many bites and scratches he had sustained from the tygren were gone and most left no scars behind. Sarai gently traced the side of his face and chin with her finger, smiling at him. "Severus, wake up," she whispered, kissing him ardently.

Severus' eyes snapped open. "Sarai?" he gasped when she withdrew. "I wasn't sure if I were dreaming or in heaven. Are you hurt? Where are we?"

"Hush," she put a finger to his lips. "I'm fine. We are inside a hut that moves about and is the known abode of Baba Yaga."

Severus' eyebrows went up. "Baba Yaga? But in Russian folktakes she's evil!"

"No, not evil, just . . .on no side but her own. Now, relax. Can you sit up?"

"I . . . think so." Severus pushed himself to a sitting position. He still felt weak and his head was fuzzy, but he refused to give into the weakness. He looked down at himself, relieved to see that everything was still attached and worked. In those last moments before he had blacked out he had been certain he was a dead man. "Don't trust her."

"I don't. She has her own agenda. As almost all the fae you meet do. As yet, I haven't figured out what it is."

Sarai quickly fetched Severus some tea and bread, which he consumed hungrily after Sarai's nod. He examined the interior of the hut with interest and stroked Cafall's head, the misthound was happily sprawled across his feet.

Baba Yaga watched this little exchange with a sly smirk, then cleared her throat.

"Now that you have tasted my hospitality, I shall answer your question, Captain Valinek. Oh, don't look so surprised, I know of you, for who has not heard of the valiant half-blood who guards Titania, and who has also fallen in love with a powerful mortal wizard who bears the blood of the fae? 'Tis a ballad for the ages, and the best story to come out of the Summer court in a very long time. You interest me, and very few people or things have interested me for a long time."

"You need us," Severus stated baldly. He had had enough of this dancing about, he wished to be on his way to find his children. Delays, even if they had saved his life, were unacceptable.

Sarai elbowed him, but he ignored her.

Baba Yaga chuckled. "So blunt. I like that in a man. You're right, I do need you. For you can go where I cannot, and bring me what I seek."

Severus' eyes narrowed. "How can that be? If you are as powerful as the legends say, you should be able to go anywhere and accomplish anything."

"Ah, well, the legends exaggerate a little. Though not by much." She walked to a chair and sat in it, beckoning them to join her around a squat table. She pointed her staff and bowls flew out of an old cupboard and filled themselves with beef stew, then shot over to the table. Spoons danced their way over as well and settled down before each of them. "I have always loved animating objects. It has been one of my favorite spells since I was but a child and first learning the Art. Eat. But while you eat, I shall tell you a tale."

The two found themselves obeying, despite their mistrust of their hostess. Under the laws of hospitality, Baba Yaga could not harm them, or allow harm to come to them, as long as they were within her home. Cups of water appeared beside their bowls, and so did more slabs of dark bread.

"Once upon a time, there were three sisters, all were princesses of Fairie, and almost equal in magical ability. One sister was of the Light, one preferred the dark and cold of Winter, and one was neither Dark or Light, but somewhere inbetween, and she preferred to the mortal realm best of all. Like her sisters, she could assume any disguise she wished, but the one she chose most often was that of an old woman. She had learned, you see, that the elderly could pass unnoticed in the mortal realm, and so learned many things. She had also learned that while some revered the old for their knowledge and wisdom, others did not, and it gave her much pleasure to teach the proud and arrogant boyars and haughty ladies a lesson in common courtesy and respect. Sometimes she helped enterprising mortals, giving them quests and testing them, for such are the ways heroes are made.

"Soon the mortals began to revere her and also to fear her power, for they had never seen any so skilled in the Magical Arts. For a long time, the three sisters were content, each in her own domain. Until the day the third sister met a comely mortal prince named Ivan. Like many a prince before, she tested him, and unlike many, he passed her tests of courage and loyalty and intelligence. He displayed great cunning where there was need and he also was fascinated by the magic. After a few quests, he returned to her, for she had decreed he could name his reward, and he shocked her by saying the only reward he wished was her. For Ivan had a peculiar gift, he could see through Glamour, and he saw the princess for what she was, and fell in love with her.

At first she was wary, for no mortal had ever penetrated her disguise. But Ivan was not seeking to harm her, he genuinely cared for her, and soon she came to care for him also, taking him for her lover. For a time, they were happy, but she had forgotten the first law of the universe—that a thing which brings great joy may also breed envy.

"Thus it was, as one day her younger sister, the Queen of Air and Darkness, came to visit, saw Ivan and wished to have him for her own. She beseeched her sister to share the mortal, but her sister refused. "You only wish him because he loves me, and I know well what fate any mortal has in your grasp. You play with them and then break them. Well, he is not a toy to be broken, little sister, and you may not have him."

"But the Dark sister was spoiled and selfish, and she stole Ivan away into Faerie, bringing him to her dark kingdom. But she soon lost interest in the mere mortal, yet refused to let him go, instead making him her pet. Under that abuse, he lost the will to live and died. By the time his beloved had found a way into the Dark Kingdom, which was warded against her and her Light sister, it was too late.

"She raged and wept, but nothing would bring Ivan back. His soul had flown to heaven. But from that day onward, a relentless enmity was born between the two sisters, and it has never ceased. The Dark Queen had children with her consort, and one of those sons recklessly decided to apprentice himself to a sorceress known as the Witch of the North. For a time, all was well, and the sorceress began to hope that some good had sprung from her sister's womb after all. She was a fool. He was as tainted as all the others. He betrayed her in the end, stealing from her a pendant that would allow him to travel back and forth between the mortal realm and Faerie, unharmed by wards or iron. It was one of her most powerful amulets, forged in blood and tears, the last gift Ivan had ever given her. To the Winter Prince it is a means to an end, but to her it represents all that was hopeful, good, and kind within her and is a symbol of the love she once had and then lost to treachery."

Baba Yaga sat back and looked at her guests expectantly.

"You are the woman in the tale, are you not?" Severus asked.

"Yes, and the others are my sisters, Maeve and Titania. Jarillion, may a pox be upon him, is my nephew."

"You wish us to get this amulet back for you?" queried Sarai. "Is that the price of the debt?"

"No. The amulet is precious to me, but that is not worth the price of a life. I wish for you to defeat Jarillion, humiliate him and bring him to me so that he may suffer my justice. He broke his contract by stealing from me and also by leaving my service without permission. He killed two of my most trusted servants ere he fled. And now the wretched brat dares taunt me by living upon the edge of the Waste, in a floating fortress where none of his blood may enter." Baba Yaga ground her teeth together.

"You don't wish him dead?" Severus clarified.

"Of course I do. A dozen times over, for he is an evil twisted shoot that needs pruning. However, fae law declares that only the Queens may mete out death to a royal. And though once I was a queen among mortals, I am that no longer. Mortals today no longer believe in the Witch of the North, and with the encroachment of iron cities and iron automobiles, I am no longer able to dwell among men as I used to. And so men have forgotten me, save in legends and myths. Here, in the realm of my birth, I am Queen of Exiles, and I seek only to make those who have wronged and hurt me suffer as I have suffered."

"I, too, have a score to settle with Jarillion," Severus stated then. "He has kidnapped my sons and my young student, Nesmayallindra Highstar, and I fear he means them all grievous harm. I must find them before they are scarred beyond repair or worse."

Baba Yaga's eyebrows rose. "He has dared to lay hands upon one of the royal kindred? Titania's bastard granddaughter, and from all the rumors, her favorite grandchild? Oh, but he has overstepped his bounds this time! This time not even Maeve shall forgive him his insolence!"

"He seeks to marry your niece," Sarai told the witch gravely.

"Marry? She is not yet of age!" scowled Baba Yaga. "Or does he mean to force or seduce her, the insufferable rogue? I would not put anything past him, he has no morals and no shred of decency within him. Does Titania know of his trespass?"

"Not yet," Sarai said. "We did not wish to start a war between Maeve and my sovereign. We thought to rescue the children ourselves and bring Jarillion back to be judged by the court, as is proper."

"Clever, but you lack one thing." Baba Yaga said softly. "You lack knowledge of the Trackless Waste. But I know the Waste, as I roam it often. Here then, is my offer. You both owe me a life debt, and here is the manner you may pay it. Defeat the Winter Prince in combat, but make certain you do not slay him, else you may be accused of being assassins instead of heroes by Maeve. Bring him to the court and call for a judgment from Titania. But make as one of your conditions that when judgment has been rendered, _I_ be allowed to pass sentence upon him. Thus will my vengeance be satisfied and your debt be repaid. In return I shall take you to Jarillion's fortress among the clouds, and there you shall enter and confront him, freeing your offspring. What say you? Have we a bargain?"

"May we have a moment to discuss it?" asked Severus.

"Certainly. I am not going anywhere." Baba Yaga sat back and pulled a small pipe from inside her shapeless robes and began to smoke it. The sweet scent of mint and pipeweed filled the air.

Severus drew Sarai off to one side and whispered, "It would seem as if she hates Jarillion as much, if not more, than we do. Can we trust her to keep her word?"

Sarai considered carefully. "You know that among the fae, a spoken promise is as binding as one of your Unbreakable Vows. She would not be offering this if she did not intend to keep her side of it. I read her aura a little as we talked, and there was no dark area of deception within. She truly despises Jarillion and Maeve and will use any means to bring them low. Including allying herself with us. I have a feeling that she has tried to attack Jarillion before, but those she chose to help her failed. And she _did_ save us, we owe her. Better we pay the debt off this way rather than another."

"Such as our firstborn child," said Severus dryly. "She seems like a dangerous enemy."

"She is. Jarillion has bitten off far more than he can chew, though he does not realize it yet." Sarai declared coldly. "From Titania he might expect a fair sort of justice, but from Baba Yaga he will be shown no mercy. I can almost pity the bastard." She smiled tightly. "Almost."

"We are agreed then?"

"Yes."

Together they turned back to where the old witch was seated.

"Have you made your choice?" the crone demanded, her blue eyes hard as agates.

"We have," Sarai asserted.

"And?"

"We have decided to accept your bargain."

Baba Yaga smiled, a smile of cold satisfaction and bitterness. "Give me your hand and your oath to seal the bargain."

She held out her hands and they were clasped by both Severus and Sarai. Solemnly, they swore to fight Jarillion and bring him to the justice of the queen, and to tell Titania that Baba Yaga was to be the executor of said justice.

"Done! May Fortune smile upon you and this quest! If you succeed, all debts are paid and void between us." She withdrew her bony feeling hands and lifted them to her face. Slowly she ran them down her squat form.

A shimmering of silver dust coated the air, dazzling their eyes.

They blinked and squinted and when they could see again, Baba Yaga was an old woman no longer, but a beautiful maiden with hair the fiery auburn of a bonfire and eyes the color of the sky at midday. She was dressed in a fine gold silk robe trimmed with black mink and glass slippers accented with sapphires and rubies twinkled upon her feet. Several rings adorned her long slender fingers and a cloak of spun moondust and starshine glittered about her.

She spread her hands and said simply, "Here is my true form, and you are among only a handful of mortals who have ever seen me thus. For the service you shall render me and because we are distant kin, I shall allow you to see me as I truly am. Once this was the face I showed to the world, and this was what Ivan saw with his True Sight." Her eyes suddenly darkened with sorrow.

"Is Baba Yaga your real name?" Severus wanted to know.

"No. It means "Grandmother Pain", roughly translated. For so I became after my Ivan's death. I was full of anguish, my heart broken and bitter, and the jagged remains stabbed me every day, as I longed for the one I could never have again. For a time I lived to cause pain to others, as in that way, I felt my own pain ease. For a time I was a scourge to all those knights and gallant lords, and the darkness poisoned my spirit."

"What changed that?" Sarai queried.

"Time. And a young foundling called Vasilisa. I found her bawling her tiny lungs out in the woods one evening. She had been left to the wolves, probably her family couldn't afford another mouth to feed, and girls were not valued then. I was almost tempted to leave her there, for I had no wish to raise an orphan brat. But then I looked at her, and saw that not only did she bear a fine fighting spirit, but a great magical gift. So I took her up and made her my foster daughter and apprentice. At first I swore I would not let my heart be touched by her. I was stone, all I needed was a servant and a student, I was under no obligation to love her.

"But even the hardest heart can be melted by a child's smile and laughter. I could not help but love her, she was innocent and wise and grew into a very beautiful woman. I taught her all of my arts of woodscraft and healing and potion-making and herbology. And when she was grown, she went out among the people of Russia and tended those in need, offering healing and wise counsel when asked. She became known as Vasilisa the Wise, and lived a long life before she died. She changed me, made me feel something other than pain and death, and for that I shall always be grateful. Her descendants are some of the greatest sorceresses in Russia, one of whom married a tsar. So I understand your fear and anxiety." She swirled her cloak about her, and moonbeams danced across the floor. "Long and long ago, my Ivan saw me this way, in the moonlight as we walked along the Volga. He called me his Gloriana, and that is the name I am most fond of."

She spun about then, light as thistledown, and suddenly was transformed into the old crone again. "Now then, I must needs tend my cauldron, and brew a batch of potions that shall aid you against the creatures Jarillion has guarding his fortress. Rest and regain your strength, and when I am finished, we shall travel across the Waste and to the fortress. We should arrive there in about three or four days."

"Might I be of assistance, Old Mother?" asked Severus respectfully. "I have some talent with potions, I hold a Mastery in that field."

"Indeed? By all means then, boy, let us see what you can do." The witch grinned, showing her long pointed teeth, and beckoned him over to her cauldron. Various vials and powders and herbs flew out of the cabinets and scuttled and scurried across the hut, where they hung in the air, and a huge tome of potion recipes flipped pages and opened up to a specific page, hovering before the two magic users.

While the two conversed in soft tones, Sarai rose and began to clean and sharpen her sword and oil her bowstring and check the fletching on her arrows. A good warrior never neglected her weapons and she would need them in top condition to face Jarillion and his allies.

Cafall rose and stretched out by her feet, his head on his paws, content to wait until his mistress and master were ready to hunt again. He licked his paws and yawned. Sarai summoned a bowl of water and another of stew and fed the faithful hound.

Then she took out her whetstone and began to run it along the blade, rasping it slowly up and down. It barely needed sharpening, as it had been made by the best swordsmiths in the fae realm, but Sarai found the exercise comforting. The slow steady repetition soothed her battle worn spirit and calmed her. After her sword had been ground to a fine edge and she had polished it, she turned to readying her bow.

She made sure it had no new nicks or scratches and used a small amount of oil, rubbing it in to make the wood supple. She tested the string, found it a bit loose, and carefully waxed it with beeswax and tightened it. She then checked her arrows, making sure the silveron tips were firmly attached and the fletching was not broken. After she had replaced several broken feathers with new ones, she slid them back in her quiver, satisfied.

_A warrior is only as good as the weapons she wields, _was an old saying that her armsmaster had drilled into her by the time she was ten. _Take care of your weapons and they'll take care of you._ That piece of advice had saved her life and the lives of the Blades who served under more times than she could count. She had always placed great emphasis upon weapons care and her routine inspections of her soldiers' weapons were of paramount importance. Her temper was legendary when she discovered one of her Blades with ill-cared weapons, and no one whom she reprimanded had ever made that mistake again. Prince Balin, who had been her student, had once earned himself an entire week of armory duty, polishing and sharpening and oiling all the weapons her Blades used, because he had forgotten to clean his sword after chopping melons in half with it during an exercise.

As she stared into the fire, half-dozing, she recalled the whispers at court of Queen Titania's lost sister, who had chosen exile rather than dwell in Summer. The rumors had been right, but only partially. Sarai suspected that Baba Yaga chose to dwell away from the court so she could hunt Jarillion and satisfy her vengeance on Maeve and the Winter prince. And the whispers had named the third daughter of King Lugh the Bright Warlord Morgana.

Sarai had been too busy training warriors and guarding the royal family to pay much attention to the rumor mill, but now she recalled Oberon sneering and saying one time to Balin that he ought to take heed of their aunt's example and never fall in love with a mortal. That nothing but sorrow could come of it, and he had been glancing right at Sarai when he said it. The Captain had never had much love for her haughty cousin, and even less when she heard how he spoke to Nesmay.

Oberon's disdain of Aislinn's daughter was something she found incomprehensible, given how fond he had always been of his sister. Surely he could see that Nesmay's birth was not at fault for Aislinn's death. The Seelie princess had been fading long before because of the betrayal by her former student and lover, and Sarai had doubted if Aislinn would have lasted a season if she had not been carrying a child. Yet Oberon had taken an immediate dislike of the frail babe and his criticisms had become more barbed and poisonous as the years went by and Nesmay displayed flickers of a talent greater than that of his own son.

Sarai pondered what Oberon would say when he learned that his niece had been held captive by the Unseelie. Would his hard heart soften towards the child? Surely not even Oberon would condemn Nesmay for Jarillion's lust and ambition. The half-fae warrior thought about how nice Jarillion's head would look upon a pole and prayed that Titania would forgive Severus for not watching her granddaughter closely enough. Sarai knew he felt terrible about the kidnapping, and worried as much about Nesmay as he did his sons.

She rose and sought out her pallet again, the soldier in her urging her to get some more sleep, for once their journey began, she was sure sleep would be in short supply. As she stretched out upon the bed, her mind began to drift, and the last sound she heard was Severus' voice, asking Baba Yaga what was the best way to chop an Acadian flower and extract the most nectar. Before she knew it, her eyes had closed and she was fast asleep.

When Severus glanced over at her a scant five minutes later, he saw her fast asleep, her hand beneath her head, her dark curls spilling across the white sheet. His mouth curled up in an involuntary smile, and his eyes grew soft.

"You love her, do you not?"

"With all that I am and ever will be."

"Mind you keep her close, some of us have a tendency to stray."

"Not Sarai. She's as constant as the North Star."

"That must be her mother's influence. Or she loves you so deeply that no other man can catch her eye, no matter how handsome or rich he might be."

"That's how it is."

"That is well then. A relationship between mortal and fae can only work if there is the same deep love and understanding on both sides. Above all, you must captivate her senses and never lose her interest, Severus Snape."

"I think being my wife and the teacher of my children, as well as a mother, will hold her interest well enough."

Baba Yaga nodded, a wistful expression stealing over her features. "Yes. Sometimes . . . I think about what Ivan and I would be like, had he lived and had I borne him children. They would have been beautiful as the summer stars and clever as scholars and I would have cherished them for all for all of their days."

Severus cleared his throat. "I am sorry for your loss, Lady Gloriana."

Baba Yaga shook her head. "I thank you, Potions Master. You would understand, seeing as you lost your first love to a dark wizard as well."

Severus nodded. "Lily was very special to me. We grew up together and she had my heart from the first time we met. My son Harry has many of her virtues, and her lovely emerald eyes."

"You are truly blessed, wizard, to have loved twice." She stirred the cauldron three more times. "Now, I believe it's time to add the powdered rowan bark."

Severus turned to measure out the correct amount, his movements precise and sure, despite working alongside one of the most skilled potion makers he had ever known. Once he had added it to the steaming cauldron, he moved over to begin grinding the mallow root. This potion was difficult, requiring a level of skill that most potion makers did not possess. But once it was completed it would enable the user to shake off the fae Glamour and see things for what they truly were. Severus had a bad feeling that they were going to need this potion more than he thought and he prayed there would be enough to give his sons also. _Please let them be all right. For if you have harmed so much as a hair on their heads, Jarillion, I shall make Titania's justice look like a slap on the wrist._

Dark thoughts flitted through his mind as he continued to brew, like circling ravens above a corpse, and he forced himself to recall his sons over Christmas break, Harry's sweet and honest smile and Draco's casual grin, both from very different and yet very similar backgrounds. His Dragon and his Phoenix. What was happening with them? And with Nesmay, his hedgehog princess? Even with Baba Yaga's unexpected help, would he be in time to save them?

**How did you enjoy Baba Yaga's tale?**

**I have taken a few liberties with traditional Russian and Slavic folklore and made her a bit more of a redeemable character rather than evil. Vasilisa, in the folktales, was actually a prisoner of Baba Yaga, but here I felt it more appropriate to make her a foster daughter.**

**Thanks everyone for reading.**

**Also, I'm probably not going to be updating this for at least a week as I'm going on vacation to Universal Studios to see the Wizarding World of Harry Potter! I can't wait!**


	58. The Darkness Within

**58**

**The Darkness Within**

"Attend me," Jarillion order sternly, as he took a small sharp knife and began to cut away the skin on the stomach of the dead white rat, which was three times the size of an ordinary rat, though just as dead when Jarillion hit it with a Heart Failure Curse. That curse, and a few others, killed swiftly, though that was not why the prince used it. He told them quite plainly he enjoyed watching creatures writhe beneath his power, and the only reason he used that curse was because he needed the body intact for his anatomy lesson. "I would have used a redcap, but I need to keep their numbers strong, so an albino giant rat shall do for now. Until something better comes along."

He continued opening up the rat, quickly and efficiently, while Harry, Draco, and Nesmay observed.

Harry's nose wrinkled at the foul stench of dead rat and blood, but knew better than to show his revulsion. The first time he had grimaced when Jarillion had killed a harmless cat resulted in the dark fae locking him in a room with a dozen freshly killed corpses of cats until he stopped flinching and retching. That had been a day ago, and Harry swore it had seemed longer than this. Draco had to fight not to puke also, but he had been raised with Lucius' unsentimental attitude towards dead animals, and so learned to hide it better.

Nesmay was sickened also by the wanton destruction, Summer fae did not kill without cause, but after seeing poor Harry's fate, managed to fight back her gorge until she was alone in her room, and then she vomited off and on all night.

When Harry had mentioned the odd slowing down feeling, as if time had begun creeping along, she feared Jarillion had pulled one of the oldest tricks of the fae, and altered how time ran, slowing it down till minutes became hours and hours days. This could only be done if the fortress was taken outside of the timestream, and that was only possible if the fortress was built next to a portal leading into the astral realm, or the Realm of Unbeing.

"Can he really do that?" Draco had queried under his breath the night before.

Nesmay shot him a _don't-be-so-dense_ look. "Of course he can. Don't you remember all those stories about how a wandering minstrel or hero joins in the Midsummer revels for a night and when he wakes the next morning in his world, he's lost a hundred years? Those stories are mostly true."

"But we've been back and forth from the fae realm loadsof times and that's never happened," Draco objected, while Harry nodded.

Nesmay shrugged. "That's because my grandmother chose to keep time running the same between the two realms. She could have just as easily altered it. Jarillion has the power to do the same, as master over his own fortress."

"Do you think he has?" Harry asked warily.

"I'm not sure," Nesmay bit her lip. "I thought . . . I thought I heard some strange noises last night, of gears grinding and squeaking and felt an odd shift in the aura of this place, but the only way to be sure would be if one of us left and then returned."

"Fat chance of that happening," Harry sighed. Hopefully Nesmay was wrong. Harry did not want to lose a hundred years as a slave to Jarillion's depraved ways.

In any case there was little they could do about it now, determined as Jarillion was to teach his new apprentices the ways of the dark. The corrupt fae began by explaining that the dark magic was many times stronger than its light counterpart and that unlike "good" magic, the dark kind carried less of a cost, since the cost of a major working could be shared among a dark mage's victims or rivals using a simple Steal Essence spell.

Jarillion had demonstrated the spell, using two redcaps and an orc, draining them nearly dry of their magical essence. No sooner had he done so, then his pale skin became flushed with energy and he seemed to glow from within. He looked, if it were possible, even more strikingly handsome than ever, though Nesmay did not seem the least affected by his more appealing looks. She could see through the Glamour he cast and little by little so could Harry and Draco.

Jarillion taught them the incantation, and all three repeated it. But mindful of their oath, they deliberately botched the pronunciation, getting it wrong again and again. Finally, Jarillion grew frustrated, and smacked them about the head, then ordered them to keep on practicing, and left the room.

"That went better than I expected," Harry said, gingerly rubbing his head.

"What an awful spell," Nesmay whimpered. "I could feel it start to coil within me, like a shadowy mist, seeking to draw someone's magic away." She shivered. And that had been with a botched attempt. How much worse would it be with a spell that worked?

This was the second day of instruction, and Jarillion wished to teach them about battle magic, using the dissected rat as a model of where to aim the dark magic and how to control it. The fae carefully peeled back the layer of skin and muscle, revealing the rat's innards.

"Look here, my students!" he called, indicating the spleen and heart, which were a mottled grayish white color. "See where the heart is! And here, the liver . . .here the spleen . . .here the stomach . . ." He carefully pointed each part out with the tip of his knife. "You must aim carefully and know where you wish the spell to hit before you release it. A wizard bolt is chaos unleashed and should be aimed with the utmost care. Observe."

He pointed a finger and spoke a word, a black sphere shot out and struck the rat's liver, disintegrating it. Jarillion laughed. "Child's play."

Harry felt his gorge rise. Though the rat was dead and could feel nothing, he was reminded of a cruel child pulling the wings off butterflies and sprinkling salt upon slugs to watch them die. _I cannot do this. I am not like them._ He gripped his wand hard and determined to play the dunce yet again, as per Draco's instructions. He was sure Jarillion suspected nothing, after all, he believed mortals were an inferior species.

But the fae prince surprised him, he spun on him and hissed, "Apprentice Snape, your turn. Show me what you have learned thus far."

"Yes, Master," Harry whispered through gritted teeth. He waved his wand at the spread-eagled rat and mispronounced the words to the incantation. The ball of negative energy sputtered and fizzled.

"Idiot!" snarled the Winter prince.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw him lift his hand and braced for a blow.

Instead he heard the sharp crack of flesh and heard Nesmay whimper. Then he heard Draco gasp as well, as Jarillion smacked him across the shoulders with a cane he had summoned. Harry whirled and cried out in protest. "Master, don't! Why are you punishing them? I am to blame for my failure. Punish me instead."

Jarillion grabbed him hard by the chin. "You do not dictate to me on punishments, _apprentice_! Clearly they are at fault for distracting you during your studies and therefore shall be punished. You see, whenever I did poorly at my studies, my lady mother made sure I did not transgress again in that manner. The lesson stuck, as this will. You see, I have noticed you still bear . . .compassion for your brother and cousin, Snape. And so, whenever you fail, they shall bear the brunt of punishment, until you succeed. A good incentive, no?" Jarillion bared his teeth and chuckled mercilessly. "But don't worry. Soon you shall learn that there is no one more important than yourself . . . and the only other person you need to please is . . .me."

He then shoved Harry into the wall and knocked Nesmay to the ground with one backhanded blow, causing her lip to bleed.

Harry almost cried out in protest, but stopped himself. That was what Jarillion wanted. He forced himself to look away. _Nesmay, I'm sorry. I'll make the bastard pay for this._

Draco too remained stoically silent, his jaw clenched. He recalled sessions like this at Malfoy Manor, when Lucius would punish the house elves and make him watch, to ensure that he knew how to discipline an underling properly. He longed to attack the Winter prince and make him cry out, but he knew the time for rebellion was not yet. He needed to find a weakness first. Then he would strike.

"Get up, princess!" growled Jarillion. "It is not meet that you grovel in the dirt. Up!"

Nesmay rose to her feet, her whole face ached but she did not show it. Instead she bowed her head briefly, seemingly cowed. "Your Highness."

Harry forced himself to go down on one knee, humbling himself to the tyrant fae. "Forgive me, Master. I shall try and do better."

"Let us see it then," sneered the other.

Harry rose, swallowing back his scorn and revulsion. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, and for the first time he understood utterly how Severus must have felt when he had to pretend to serve Voldemort for all those years. _Dad, how did you stand it? How did you bear his foul presence and act like it was normal?_ This time he pointed his wand and spoke the spell correctly and the black energy sizzled from the end of his wand and struck the dead rat's spleen, blasting it to ash.

"Not bad. Mr. Malfoy, you're next." Jarillion waved at Draco.

Harry stepped back, feeling ill and tainted. Though he had not killed any living thing with the spell, he felt as if he were soiled, that he had given the black magic access to his soul and his mind and it was slowly taking over.

Draco performed well, the spell was not a difficult one and he had learned worse at Lucius' own hand.

Satisfied, Jarillion dismissed them a few minutes later.

Harry stepped forward after the door had shut behind them. "Nesmay, I'm sorry—"

She held up a hand. "Don't be. It's not your fault. I've had worse." She glanced away. Then she said quickly, "It's better if we don't talk to each other. He might see." She spun on her heel and hurried away, heading towards the stairs and her tower suite.

Harry stared after her in dismay. "But . . ." He looked at Draco helplessly. "I thought we promised not to let him come between us."

Draco sighed. "He's not. She's just being cautious. Best not to provoke him. He's our master now, he can make things very unpleasant for us if he wants." His brother reminded him grimly.

"I won't let him make us enemies."

"Of course not, Snape. Calm that Gryffindor pride. Nothing will ever make us enemies. But he doesn't know that, and if he thinks we're starting to become rivals, he might relax a bit around us. Get it?"

"Oh. Yeah."

Draco clapped him on the back. "Play the game, Snape. Just remember, none of it's real. Except the truth here." He tapped his heart, then shrugged and sauntered off to the dining hall to beg lunch from the invisible servants.

Harry followed, deeply troubled. How could he protect himself and his family from the chasm that loomed before them? He caught up to the blond just before their newly furnished quarters in the keep. "Draco? Do you think . . . Dad and Sarai are looking for us?" he whispered into the other's ear.

Draco gave him an incredulous glance, then opened the door to their room and pulled his brother inside, closing the door behind them and casting a Muffliato Charm. "Phoenix, what's gotten into you? I'd bet Malfoy Manor they're hunting for us right now. They'd never let us disappear like that without tearing apart both the fae realm and ours to find us. Don't give up hope that way, Harry. Or else the bastard prince wins."

Harry gave Draco a wan smile. "I . . . I wasn't, really. I just . . .I've been afraid that Dad might not find us, or that when he did find us we'd be . . . changed. Dark servants." Harry's eyes were filled with trepidation. "I don't trust myself, Dragon. Back when I lived with the Dursleys, I had it rough but . . . at least I knew what to expect, and how to avoid Vernon's belt, most times. I was hungry and all, but at least I knew it would end for a little when I went to school. And I could trick Dudley in my sleep, so it wasn't too bad. But this . . . the dark magic . . .I can feel it tugging at me, calling me . . . was this how Dad felt, all those years when he pretended to serve Voldemort?"

Draco nodded. "This and some worse, I'd imagine. Listen, he told me once, when Lucius was teaching me dark spells, that if you face the darkness within, then it can't hurt you. He said that the worst thing dark magic does is it takes away your hope and makes you afraid to stop using it. So don't let it do that, Harry. You've faced your darkness, last summer with Smidgen. Just like I faced mine when I rejected Lucius and Narcissa in the courtroom. The dark magic can only seduce when you let it."

Harry nodded. What Draco said made sense. He just hoped that his father would come soon, before something dreadful happened to all of them. For all he had faced monsters and dark wizards, he felt he was out of his depth here, and the darkness within coiling inside, biding its time to strike.

Above, in her rooms, Nesmay paced, recalling over and over Harry's hurt face as she had run from him. She had hated hurting her cousin, who was sweet and good and would have been her champion if she had asked for it, or even if she hadn't. _Forgive me, Harry. But it's the only way to keep you safe._ She nearly laughed aloud at that thought. Safety was not to be found among these walls. If only the boys had not come with her. If only they had run when Jarillion had come. But no, they had stayed and fought, they were no cowards, and so had doomed themselves. She felt terribly guilty for that, and yet at the same time selfishly glad that they were here with her. At least she was not alone.

Her hands went to the circlet of metal about her neck. Her collar of shame, which she longed to remove but could never manage to do so with the magic left to her. Jarillion would have rued the day he set a hand on her if her mortal magic was free. At first she had hoped to learn enough of Jarillion's cold Art to use against him, but soon realized it was a fool's hope. The Winter prince taught them nothing he could not counter and he had been studying the Dark Arts for longer than she had been alive. Her fae magic was useless against him. It was her wild mortal magic he feared, and thus had bound.

Worse, the collar could only be removed by Jarillion or Maeve, the Winter Queen. Nesmay knew that would happen when the stars fell from the sky, and gave up trying to remove it a few days ago. All it had gotten her were bleeding fingernails and headaches.

So she had turned her thoughts to something else, trying to meditate and keep calm enough to block away the traitorous longing in her mind, the whispers of dark magic that pleaded with her to use them. They frightened her, making her think that perhaps Oberon had been right, and she was bad luck and a bad seed.

Her hair, when not spiked and colored purple, was a soft honey color. They all said she looked much like her mother. But what if her father was inside her as well? What if she truly had his spirit, and the dark magic overwhelmed her? That was what she feared most of all, and it was something no one could protect her against.

_Go away, Father. Back into the hell from whence you came. Just go away and take the bloody Winter Prince along with you._

Jarillion smirked, pleased with how the session had gone. He had expected some resistance at first to his teachings, because these were mere mortals and mortals nearly always had scruples at first. But soon they would come to realize the power the darkness held, and once they did, they would seek it out eagerly, and forget the ties of blood, and lust after the magic alone and what it could give them. He looked forward to the day when the Seelie princess would give into her dark inheritance and then become a truly fit bride. Together they could rule the Waste, and who knew, perhaps even Winter itself, should Maeve's power falter. But right now he would concentrate on winning them over to the shadow side.

_Day 4 (altered time):_

"Today we are going to practice summoning an ally to assist you in battle," Jarillion stated. "I have noticed that this is a dying branch of the Art among humans. "Twould seem you wizards believe yourself "too proud" or "too strong" to need allies as you once did." As always, when he spoke of mortals, the Unseelie's perfect mouth curled into a perfect sneer. "We of faerie, however, have long known the usefulness of this spell, and a well-timed summoning can turn the tide of battle in your favor."

"What will we be summoning, Master?" asked Nesmay, half-curious and half-fearful. "A cold drake? Some lurks? Perhaps a wyvern?"

"Nothing so advanced yet, little princess," chuckled Jarillion, reaching out to run his fingers through her hair. "For the sorceress must be able to control what she calls, or else risk being eaten. For now, we shall start with something easy—fire imps from Tartarus. They are easily called and easily controlled, as they have very little brains and exist to feast upon sweet mortal flesh."

They were in Jarillion's workroom, a huge circular stone room with ancient diagrams of spells upon the walls and more runes and a pentagram upon the floor. Jarillion had shown them how to activate the pentagram and some of the other circle wards, ensuring that they were protected from what their spells called up. "One slip, one wrong word, and you could be food for a demon or other creature. So . . .memorize your incantations correctly."

He had a large iron cage off to the side of the room, which was currently empty. Harry and Draco both eyed it uneasily, wondering who or what was going to appear in it. Last time Jarillion was demonstrating how to cast a fireball correctly, there had been a mountain troll within it, and the Unseelie had burnt it to a crisp. He had then summoned another for each of them, and watched to see how well they killed it. Though the troll was a vicious monster that would have crushed him had it been loose, still Harry felt sorry for it, trapped and used for target practice, but he forced himself to cast the spell anyway. The smell of burnt troll made his stomach heave, but there was a dark part of him that rejoiced at killing the monster, and made him shudder.

"Watch!" the Winter Prince ordered, and began casting, after stepping inside the pentagram. Across from his pentagram was another concentric triple circle and it was there that a gate was summoned and fiery creatures with bat wings and dragon tails the size of Harry's hand emerged, hissing and giggling like insane inmates appeared from a clot of shadow. They hovered and swooped, clawing at the invisible barrier that kept them penned in the circle.

"There! Fire imps live to destroy everything, but especially living organisms." Jarillion gestured with one hand and suddenly the iron cage was filled with blue Cornish pixies.

Draco swallowed hard, knowing what was coming. Harry blinked, and his mind whispered that surely Jarillion wasn't going to do what he suspected. Nesmay suppressed a wince but remained stony-faced, even though the pixies were subjects of the Summer court. She knew she could do nothing to save them.

"Focus your will upon the imps and then command them to destroy your enemies and afterwards disperse. Never forget to tell them to leave once they have done your bidding, else you shall have a problem on your hands," cautioned the prince.

He abruptly released the imps from the warded circle and bid them slay the pixies.

The imps rushed over to the iron cage and began gleefully roasting and ripping apart the pixies, and soon the room was filled with the stink of burning flesh, brimstone, and the screams of the pixies as they died, unable to escape their iron prison. And over the screams came the laughter of the imps.

Harry totally lost it then, and vomited onto the floor.

Before Draco could remove the evidence, Jarillion saw and stalked over to them. He jerked Harry up by the hair and snarled, "I'll have no weak-stomached apprentices here, Snape!" He casually backhanded Harry across the face, knocking his glasses off. "Pick them up. You're first this lesson."

Harry bent to pick them up, his face throbbing. "Sorry, Master," he whispered, though he wished he had thrown up on Jarillion's boots. The last thing he wanted was to call up more of the infernal creatures, but he had no choice. He stepped into the pentagram, wand in hand.

He could see how the spell could be useful, if he weren't summoning dark creatures, and he vowed to learn how to summon other creatures with it, like bears or even wolves, which could help him. For now, though . . .

He managed to summon up four imps, though the spell left a rotten taste in his mouth, as if slime coated his tongue. As before, Jarillion conjured pixies in the cage and Harry ordered the imps to feed and then return to their home.

They obeyed, and Harry was both relieved and sickened.

Draco was next, and he did not display any of his disgust openly, but shuddered inwardly at how the dark magic coiled within him, whispering sweet seduction in his ear. _Don't listen to it. Don't._ But it was hard.

When Nesmay's turn came, however, Jarillion called up redcaps from somewhere and put them in a cage. "There, my love! A new target for you!"

Nesmay nodded and cast, summoning more imps than either Harry or Draco had. This alarmed Draco, who looked over at the purple-haired half-blood and shook his head.

Nesmay's bright eyes were dull and hard and she did not seem to see her cousins there. There was a strange expression on her face. "My lord, would you release them from the cage?" she asked, indicating the redcaps, who were screaming and struggling to get out. "Let us have a bit of . . .sport."

Jarillion laughed. "Why not?" He waved a hand and the iron cage vanished.

The redcaps began to try and find a way out, but there was no escape.

Nesmay freed the imps and then the fiery things hunted down the redcaps and killed them.

The redcaps never stood a chance and both wizards watched in horror as Nesmay threw back her head and laughed quietly, filled with savage satisfaction.

Jarillion applauded, his smile one of cold triumph.

Later that night, Harry said to Draco, "We _have _to talk to her. I think she might be . . .starting to turn." He bit his lip. "Or maybe it's an act?"

Draco looked uncertain. "I don't know. Her face . . . it seemed too spontaneous to be an act."

"What do we do?"

"Try and talk to her."

But when they crept up to Nesmay's room, they found the door locked and no answer to their knocks.

Draco cast an Unlocking Charm, and turned the handle, only to find Nesmay's room empty. At a loss, he said, "I wonder where she is?"

"I don't know, but . . ." Harry trailed off, upset.

"We'll try again later," Draco said, then they departed.

Nesmay quickly cancelled the glamour that had kept her from being seen by Draco and Harry. She felt awful about deceiving them that way, but she knew the only way she had of getting free of Jarillion's hold was to make him think she was changing and becoming more like he was. The only problem was, she feared that eventually it might not be an act, for this afternoon she had felt flutters of satisfaction when the fire imps had pursued the red caps across the room. More, she had not felt badly when they had died, as she ought to have, even though they too were vicious killers.

_Does that make me a monster too? _she wondered bleakly. _I don't want to become like any of them and yet . . .no matter what I do, the darkness is claiming me, little by little. _Tears slid down her cheeks and she wondered how long she had before she surrendered totally to the whispers and became Jarillion's dark bride in truth?

She wept silently, wishing she dared go to talk to her cousins, who had now become something like brothers if she admitted the truth, but she didn't want to involve them any more than necessary in her gambit. Shaking and sick, she rose and exited her room, heading towards the library, where she hoped to do some research upon the collars, maybe there was a way to trick Jarillion into removing it?

Draco lay awake in his bed long after Harry had fallen asleep and started to snore. Normally he would have poked his brother till he turned over and quit being annoying, but not on this night. He was too agitated. His plan was spiraling out of control and he did not know how to salvage it. He had hoped that Severus and Sarai would have arrived before now to free them and kick Jarillion's icy ass, but they were late. Draco refused to contemplate the other option that might have occurred, that they had died beneath the claws or fangs of some monster.

No, he had to remain firm in his belief that his father and Sarai were not only alive, but coming to find them. As he had told Harry, lose hope and you lose all. He trusted Severus and knew that nothing, not even death would prevent the Potions Master from seeking them. He just hadn't counted on Jarillion being able to manipulate time and hoped it was only a very temporary thing.

He turned on his side, shivering, for the keep was always a few degrees cooler than was comfortable for him, yet he didn't want to waste a Warming Charm. He had to conserve his magic and his will to keep from succumbing to the siren song of the dark magic. Though he didn't dare admit it to either Harry or Nesmay, he too felt the subtle beckon of the shadow road, and unlike them, he had once walked a bit down it. It gave him a little knowledge in how far he could go before he reached a point of no return, and what signs to look for in the others.

Harry was still holding out but Nesmay concerned him greatly. The fact that she was avoiding them frightened him badly, for most dark practitioners tended to be solitary, unwilling to share power or company with others. The dark magic encouraged such a lifestyle and Nesmay was displaying all the signs of listening to the darkness.

_Please,_ he prayed silently with his eyes shut tight. _Don't go there, Nesmay. Don't make me keep that promise, for the love of Merlin. Please._ _I don't want to be your executioner._

Troubled and anxious, it took him a very long time to fall asleep.

Days passed, and all the children felt the dark magic slowly increasing its hold over their minds and spirit. It was difficult to be cheerful and maintain hope in Jarillion's home, which was cold, stark, and full of the miasma of evil. Jarillion had taught them spells of frost and ice, showed them how to cast killing frost bolts and to freeze the blood in someone's veins. At first they used cadavers, but soon he progressed them into attacking living targets, such as woodkin and butterfly fairies which he had caught on forays into the Summer country and held prisoner for just such experiments.

By then, all the apprentices had learned to mask their distaste of killing, though Nesmay appeared to revel in it more than Draco or Harry, which pleased Jarillion to no end.

He also taught them how to brew poisons and tested them on more magical beings to show how quickly they killed.

Meanwhile, Nesmay continued her research, and finally found a clue in a very old book of potions, so old that the pages nearly crumbled beneath her fingers at her touch. She had to cast a preserving charm on the pages in order to ensure she could read it. There was an ancient solution that would render the drinker subservient and obedient to the brewer for an hour. Her only problem, when she could get into the lab to brew it and getting a hair or fingernail clipping from the canny prince.

Traditionally, the fae were resistant to spells of charm or command, but this potion was something invented by one of them, and it apparently worked, because this was an ancient potions journal, and this potion must have been tested several times for efficacy. She felt a thrill go through her. At last, a way out!

She slipped from the library and practically skipped back to her room, ignoring the suspicious glance from one of the redcap guards patrolling the corridor. She couldn't understand how they could serve a master like Jarillion, who slaughtered them in his experiments with his apprentices. Didn't they care? Or were they unfeeling monsters that cared only for themselves, as she had been taught?

For the first time since being brought here, Nesmay felt hope. It was a fragile small flicker in the smothering darkness, but it was there. Now she had to figure out a way to make her plan work.

She almost rammed headfirst into Draco in the hall, not expecting the Slytherin wizard to be waiting for her in front of her door. She gave a sharp squeak of surprise before Draco put a hand on her shoulder and whispered, "Nesmay, we need to talk. _Now._"

"All right. But not here." She set her hand to the door and it unlocked at her touch.

He followed her inside.

He glanced about sharply. "Is it safe to talk here?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure? Is it warded?"

She sighed and muttered something. "There! See? He won't be able to hear us. What did you want? I need some sleep, I've been up doing research for over six hours."

"Research? On what? How to better kill redcaps?" his tone was sarcastic.

She scowled. "No, on how to rid myself of this bloody thing about my neck."

"The collar? I thought only Jarillion could release you from it." He took a seat on her bed.

"Yes, but I think I've figured out a way to make him."

Draco eyed her suspiciously. "How? By joining him? Nesmay, you're skating on thin ice, you know that? The dark magic . . .it seems like it's . . .seducing you . . ."

"It's not." She snapped. "Don't you trust me?"

"Not when you're laughing when things die."

"It's fake, Draco. Besides, they're monsters. They'd as soon eat me as look at me. Why should I feel sorry for them?"

She had a point, even if he didn't want to admit it. "Damned if I know. Just be careful, okay? Try and remember you're Titania's granddaughter."

"As if I could forget."

"What did you find?"

"A potion recipe," she began eagerly, and showed him the book.

He read it through silently. "Looks a little complicated. Are you sure it'll work?"

"No, and I have no idea how to get him to drink it, but it's the only thing I've found that might help me get rid of this thing." She put a hand up and gripped the collar. "I have to try, Draco. Otherwise I might . . ." She shook her head. "If this works, we can force him to let us go."

"And if it doesn't, we're dragon bait," Draco pointed out grimly.

"Got a better idea?"

"No. Harry and I can help you. Either with the brewing or the getting ingredients or providing a distraction."

"You don't have to. If we get caught . . ."

"All of us will suffer anyway, so might as well make it worthwhile," he pointed out.

She stared at him, with his devil-may-care grin, and her eyes filled with sudden tears. "I really don't deserve—"

"Stop," he ordered, handing her a handkerchief. "You're my family, and family helps family. We all got into this together and we'll all come out of it together."

She went and hugged him. "Draco, you're the best."

"I knew that already," he smirked. He hugged her back, then said quickly, "Girls! So dramatic."

"I think we ought to start tomorrow evening. See if Harry can come up with a way to get Jarillion's hair. Or how to administer the potion once it's done. I'll start collecting the other ingredients."

"Right. Well, it's late, and I'm tired. Pleasant dreams, little cousin." He rose and strode towards the door.

Nesmay waved and bid him good night. Then she hid the potions text beneath her pillow and crawled into bed. For the first time since her arrival her dreams were not dark and full of blood and death and dread. For the first time she slept deeply, peacefully, and awoke feeling refreshed and calm. She dressed rapidly and ignored the collar in the mirror. Very soon she would be rid of it and then Jarillion would do well to run for his life indeed! For if she shared one thing in common with Tom Riddle besides her wild magic it was a thirst for vengeance. And the Winter Prince owed her.

**Sorry for taking so long to update but I've been very sick with a bad Ear and throat infection and couldn't write as I could barely get out of bed. I'm slowly recovering and hope you enjoy this chapter and forgive any mistakes in it. **

**Will the kids manage to brew the potion before Jarillion discovers them? Or will Severus and his allies arrive first?**

**Find out next chapter, as things come to a head and the final showdown occurs!**


	59. Jarillion Triumphant

**59**

**Jarillion Triumphant**

The next day, Nesmay met with Harry and Draco, in the library, and she told Harry about the potion and asked him if he had any ideas about how to get the ingredients she needed, especially the hair from Jarillion, without the Winter fae getting suspicious. Harry thought for a moment, then said, "Well, we had to get something similar when Ron, Hermione, and I wanted to make Polyjuice Potion and get into the Slytherin common room. Hermione got the hairs we needed from Crabbe, Goyle, and what she thought was Millicent Bulstrode, but instead it turned out to be her cat and Hermione spent weeks in the Hospital Wing before the cat characteristics wore off."

Draco frowned at his brother. "Harry, when the hell did you Polyjuice yourselves and sneak into the Slytherin common room?"

"During second year, when all that stuff with the Chamber of Secrets and the Heir of Slytherin was going on. Ron and I thought you were the Heir, or that you knew who was, but since we couldn't stand each other back then, I could hardly ask you. So we decided to find out with the Polyjuice potion."

"Right. Now I remember! Hermione told me about brewing that in the haunted bathroom just before she took me trick-or-treating on Halloween. I guess it slipped my mind. That's a master level potion. How did you get all the ingredients? Some of them, like boomslang skin are very rare and Dad kept them locked up in his office."

Harry coughed and looked uncomfortable. "Ah . . .Ron and I distracted him while 'Mione snuck into his office and . . . err . . . stole them. We threw a Filibuster firework into your cauldron, don't you remember?"

"Yes, now that you mention it. If I had known that was you, Harry, I'd have gotten you back good." Draco said, pretending to frown in disapproval. "And you're lucky Dad never found out about that."

"I know. But that's how I think we need to play this, Nesmay. You convince Jarillion to let us have a potion lesson first, and then Draco and I will distract him while you get the ingredients and maybe, if you're quick enough, you could snatch a hair off the back of his shirt or something."

"We'll figure out a safe place for you to brew it later," Draco whispered.

"Too bad we don't have a haunted bathroom," lamented Harry.

"And after that? How should I get him to drink it?"

"Uh . . . maybe you could have tea with him and try and slip it in there?" Harry suggested.

Nesmay sighed. "I suppose. But first, let's just worry about getting what I need."

That morning, Nesmay sought out Jarillion at breakfast, choosing to eat with the prince instead of in her room as she usually did. He raised an eyebrow when she appeared in her apprentice robes and gave him a small smile as she seated herself next to him. "Good morning, my lord. I hope you had pleasant dreams."

Jarillion eyed her a bit suspiciously. "Having a change of heart, little Summer queen?"

Nesmay bit her lip and looked at her plate, for she was unsure if she could dissemble well enough to hide her disgust. "In a manner of speaking. I . . . I wish to make a request of you, my lord."

"Oh? And what is that?" Jarillion asked, helping himself to a plate of creamed haddock.

"I wish to have another potions lesson, Master. That subject fascinates me and I want to learn more of your art."

Jarillion chuckled. "Well, well. It seems you favor poison. Such a typical woman's weapon. But I think it quite appropriate. My own mother is an accomplished poisoner. Very well. We shall have another lesson this morning, and in the afternoon we'll have some fun with Freezing Hexes."

"You are too kind, my lord," she purred, then quickly ate a piece of ham, its sweet glaze made her smile, so she looked convincingly grateful.

Jarillion gave her a smile in return, of triumph and satisfaction. At last, he thought, she was finally submitting to him. Soon he would have the makings of the next Dark Queen of Winter.

RPMRPMRPMRPM

Nesmay counted to ten and gave her cauldron one more stir before waiting a minute and slipping away to the far cabinet to procure the ingredients she needed for her potion. Behind her, she heard a loud explosion as Harry and Draco added too much devil's tongue to their solutions. She winced as the noise reverberated in her sensitive ears and hurried over to the cabinet at the back of Jarillion's lab, using sleight-of-hand, learned when she was a small child and had snitched sweet sticky buns from the table when the palace cooks weren't looking at court.

Jarillion was furious and swearing a blue streak, though neither of the boys could understand what he shouted at them. Nesmay did, however, and his choice of invective made her blush. Harry and Draco were standing there, looking as though they were shocked. Harry looked at Draco out of the corner of his eye, silently congratulating each other on a prank well done.

"You wretched imbeciles!" raged the Winter prince. "Must you ruin every attempt at making a decent poison? I cannot abide your stupidity any longer! You are hopeless cretins, like all your pathetic mortal race!" There was more in this vein, but spoken in the scathing cadence of the fae language.

Draco smirked quietly at his brother, forgetting that he was not in Snape's potions class, where the worst the strict professor had ever done was assign a week-long detention and take points.

Until the merciless Unseelie reminded both of them in no uncertain terms by removing his dragonhide belt and whipping them.

Nesmay watched in dismay as Jarillion used magic to force both boys to bend over their cauldrons and froze them there while he lashed their legs and buttocks over and over. She put a hand over her mouth to keep from yelling at Jarillion to stop, knowing she could not afford to be seen as favoring her cousins over the dark prince, not if she wanted Jarillion to trust her enough to take a spiked drink from her hand. She had known there might be consequences as a result of the distraction, but she had not expected Jarillion to fly off the handle this much.

She cringed inwardly as both boys began yelling, half-pleading with the enraged master sorcerer to stop. _Merciful Great Mother, I'm so sorry!_ She sucked in a breath and blinked back the sudden tears.

Draco gasped as another line of fire etched itself across his thighs. He had been beaten worse by Lucius, but it had been a long time since then, and he had forgotten how badly a whipping stung. He wagered that Harry had as well, from the way he was whimpering and yelling. It was about then that Draco thought they should have done something else to distract Jarillion, since it was obvious that he had less patience than Snape did when it came to dealing with exploding cauldrons.

"Oww! Master, please, we're sorry!" he made himself say, though normally he hated to beg, and would have rather been beaten unconscious. But he knew he couldn't afford to let his pride take over and so he forced himself to play the coward.

"It was a mistake, sir!" Harry whined, gritting his teeth. He was certain Vernon had hit harder than Jarillion, but even so, the whipping hurt terribly.

"A mistake you won't repeat, now will you?" Jarillion spat, panting.

"No, Master! Never!" they chorused.

Meanwhile, Nesmay crept up to him on cat's feet and gently tweaked a single hair from off of his tunic. Then she tucked it into her pocket and stepped back a few feet. "My lord, I wish you to see if my brew is correct."

Jarillion spun on her, the belt still dangling from his hand. His face was a mask of anger. "By rights, I should punish you as well, but I have no desire to mar that lovely skin of yours, Nesmayallindra. Yet." He gave her a lascivious smile, then refastened his belt and released Draco and Harry. "Out of my sight, before I give you another taste, you pathetic bastards!"

The boys walked as quickly as they could from the room, grimacing.

Jarillion turned to Nesmay. "Now then, my dearest, let us see if you've inherited your Aunt Maeve's talent." He moved over to inspect her work, and Nesmay clenched her hands inside her sleeves and prayed the potion would work, so she could give the cruel prince a taste of his own medicine.

Later on that morning, she sought out Draco and Harry and gave them some healing salve, which she always carried on her person. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop him," she said dejectedly. "I wanted to slam him over the head with the brass scales, but . . ."

"It's okay. We've had worse," Harry reassured her.

"And it was really our fault, we should have just played idiots again instead of getting creative," Draco sighed, flinching. "But thanks for the salve."

"You're welcome. Do you . . . umm . . . need help . . .?"

"No!" Harry said quickly, going red. "We can help each other, Nesmay."

"Oh. Of course," she said, blushing as well. "I just thought . . . never mind. I have everything I need, now I just need to find a place to brew it without him seeing."

"I know a place," Draco said then.

"Where?"

"The cell he put us in when we first came here. He won't be checking that any time soon."

"Draco, that's brilliant!" Harry praised.

Draco looked embarrassed. "Well, I had to think of something to keep my mind off how much my damn backside hurt. And since I still feel like a prisoner by another name . . ."

Nesmay bent and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks so much! I'll try and be quick. Get some rest, okay?"

"All right. Luck, Princess."

Nesmay smiled. "Feel better." Then she slipped away and was gone.

Harry got to his feet and picked up the jar of salve. "I'll put it on you first, Dragon. I think he hit you more than me there at the end."

"Whatever, Harry." Draco said, carefully removing his pants.

RPMRPMRPM

Nesmay managed to slip down to the dungeons and place all of her apparatus and ingredients in the cell that the boys had formerly occupied. The dungeons weren't guarded any longer, since there were no prisoners in them, and so she did not have to avoid any guards. She cast a Glamour over the interior of the cell, so on the off chance anyone happened to be passing by, unlikely but one never knew, they would see nothing save bare walls and a straw-strewn floor. Then she hurried back to the main level of the keep for some more lessons in dark sorcery with her hated teacher.

After the lesson was over, Nesmay felt ill, not physically ill, but spiritually. Each time she used the dark magic she could feel the slick taint spreading deeper within her, it oozed like black oil over her and she could feel it poisoning her slowly. Slowly she was coming to enjoy the sessions, and a part of her reveled in the harm she caused the magical creatures Jarillion summoned, and she was revolted and terrified by her response to it. She could tell that the boys were growing ill as well, though like her they had learned to hide it.

She quickly returned to her suite, changed her clothes and soaked in a hot bath. _Soon, if we aren't careful, we shall become his dark acolytes in truth and not just in name. I must get this right the first time and make certain he drinks it. We have to escape._

Then she put on clean clothes, a simple tunic and trews and using Glamour, scampered down the passageways to the dungeons, the ancient potions book tucked under her arm.

First she read the instructions in the book over again carefully, recalling how Severus had always stressed the proper reading of the recipe before attempting to brew. Then she began to measure out all of her ingredients and set the cauldron simmering. She had used a tiny portion of her fae magic to shrink a cauldron earlier that morning, and now she enlarged it and set it atop the conjured fire.

Carefully and precisely, she began to add each ingredient. As she did so, she recalled Severus' instructions, and his insistence on exact proportions and measurements. Recalling the several days she had brewed with him brought a sheen of tears to her eyes. She had thought him a strict and hard teacher back then, and had resented his sternness, but that was before she knew what a terrible and harsh teacher really was. Jarillion made Snape look like a pussycat in comparison with his discipline, and Nesmay found that she would give up her all of her gold just for the chance to hear Severus praise her once again or give her a reassuring hug.

_You can do better than that, Nesmay,_ she silently encouraged herself. _Show yourself Severus' true student and brew this potion perfectly._

She took two deep breaths and concentrated all of her considerable focus and magic upon the task at hand. As she brewed, she could almost imagine Severus hovering over her shoulder, whispering corrections in her ear. It helped steady her and calm her nerves, and never had she been so grateful for his exacting methods as she was then. The skills he taught her might save her life and the lives of his sons and she was determined to do this right. She would get no second chance.

It took two hours for the potion to brew and fifteen minutes to steep, then she carefully decanted it into a small bottle. The vial was then tucked safely in her deep pockets robe. She would ponder upon the best way to slip the potion into Jarillion's drink. Then she hid the evidence of her brewing under another Glamour spell and locked the cell door.

_Sun, Moon, and Stars, let this be the solution to our problems and let us gain our freedom from this cold despot once and for all._

RPMRPMRPM

But it was the next evening before Nesmay got the chance to slip the potion into Jarillion's drink. That day, all the apprentices performed well in their studies, putting the Winter prince into an almost cheerful frame of mind. That night, as a reward, he invited them all to dine with them.

The boys were suspicious of the prince's sudden showering them with approval, and Draco said he was going to take a Poison Neutralizing Draft before he ate anything, just in case. Harry also agreed to take it, and suggested Nesmay should also, they were all gathered in the boys' room, wearing their apprentice robes.

Oddly enough, the girl was rather nonchalant about her intended's intentions. "If he wanted to poison you, he'd have done it when you blew up the cauldrons. He considers you assets now, and an Unseelie doesn't harm them . . . unless they prove to be liabilities. So I doubt you'll have to worry about a deadly cocktail." Then she grinned like a child handed an entire basket of sweets. "But . . . this gives me the perfect opportunity to slip my potion into his drink."

"Be careful, Nesmay," Harry warned. "If he even suspects . . ."

"He won't. You'll see," she said mysteriously.

"Don't get all cocky," Draco cautioned. "Look what happened to us when we did. We ended up getting our arses whipped royally."

"I'm not. I'm just . . . excited that I finally have a chance."

"Let's just hope this potion works," Harry said fervently, crossing his fingers. He didn't know how long he could last against the lure of the dark, which whispered sweet seduction into his ears every chance it got. Now using the dark spells felt almost . . .normal and that terrified him beyond belief. If he went dark Severus would never forgive him. Nor would he ever forgive himself.

He squeezed Nesmay's hand. "Go get 'em, tigress! You show them what a half-blood can do."

"Yeah, once he's under the influence of that potion, we can kick his arse for a change," Draco said, and in his voice was an eager vicious note. He was longing to deal out some retribution to the Winter prince badly.

Nesmay abruptly embraced them both, whispering, "I never could have done it without you. If you weren't here with me . . . I think . . . I would have become like my father by now. Or worse."

"Well, princess, that's what family's for," drawled Draco.

"We all got into this together and we'll all come out of it together," stated Harry firmly, hugging the slender girl to him. "Now let's go to dinner. Hopefully it'll be the last supper Jarillion will ever eat."

"Amen to that!" Draco murmured, then they all headed down to the dining hall of the keep, wands tucked in their robes, hoping that tonight would be their last night in the keep of doom.

Nesmay bit her lip hard. _If_ she had brewed the potion correctly, then it would take effect a few minutes after being swallowed. _If_ the potion recipe was not mistaken, and it really did work on High Court fae. _If_ Jarillion drank the entire glass of wine with the potion mixed in and it didn't get diluted. There were a lot of ifs in their plan, but the Seelie princess didn't see any other way to proceed. She would simply have to trust to fate and hope it all worked out.

She wondered if her mother would be proud of her. _Mother, if you're up there somewhere watching, wish me courage and the luck of thieves, because I'm going to need it._

Jarillion was already seated in his customary place in the throne-like ivory chair with the plump indigo velvet cushions when the three entered the dining hall. Both Draco and Harry were grateful for their velvet lined robes as the temperature in the hall was quite cold . . . for mortals. Nesmay shivered, though she felt the cold less than they. Jarillion was eyeing her like a ripe piece of melon, and that made her very apprehensive.

The Unseelie lord waited until his apprentices had come up to the table before saying, "Be seated. Food shall be served shortly."

Draco pulled out the chair on Jarillion's left for Nesmay and seated her, recalling the manners drilled into him from babyhood by Narcissa. Then he sat on her other side.

Harry hesitated, then took the seat on Jarillion's right. He would have preferred to sit next to Draco, but thought that maybe he could provide yet another distraction so Nesmay could do what she had to, though not one with such painful consequences as the previous one. He still was not totally healed from the beating, despite Nesmay's salve. Jarillion had a strong arm. Though not as strong as Vernon's, Harry thought, suppressing a wince. Still, if this paid off, it would be worth it.

There were goblets of water beside each plate setting, which was of simple ivory porcelain rimmed in gold with the prince's crest in the center—a frost drake hovering in front of two crossed lightning bolts. The utensils were also gold plated and fit for royalty. They made Harry uncomfortable, like he was invited to a banquet where he didn't belong. Draco and Nesmay, on the other hand, looked quite at home, probably due to their upbringing.

Unseen servants came and brought them glasses of frost wine and some small appetizers, like rolls and crab tarts. As soon as the wine had been set at her place, Nesmay immediately sipped from her glass. She caught Harry's eye and gave a miniscule nod.

Harry picked up on it immediately and said, "Master Jarillion? I have a question about today's lesson."

"Oh? What part of it escaped you, youngling?" Jarillion said, turning to look at Harry with an indulgent frown.

While Harry talked, Nesmay emptied the contents of the vial into her wine glass and swirled it about. Then she switched glasses, quickly imbibing more frost wine, so her glass would look less full than Jarillion's, who had only taken a single swallow of his.

Under the table, Draco gave her a victory clasp with his right hand.

So far, so good.

Harry allowed his end of the conversation to trail off so Jarillion would turn back to his wine. He went and took a drink of his own, feeling the fae liquid burn pleasantly all the way to his stomach.

Then Draco proposed a toast, saluting their wonderful master Jarillion and how lucky they were to have him as a mentor, along with other flattering remarks. He lifted his glass in salute.

Nesmay didn't know how he managed to say such lies with a straight face, and she took another sip of her frost wine to cover her amazement.

They all drank.

To their dismay, Jarillion didn't finish his drink.

Draco nearly choked upon a crab puff when he noticed. Nesmay helpfully swatted him on the back and handed him the goblet of water.

"Do be more careful, apprentice," scolded Jarillion lazily. "Try not to inhale your food, though I am aware it is probably worlds better than that of your mortal realm."

"Yes, Master," Draco said softly, though he longed to tell the other where he could shove his pretentions.

Harry and Nesmay nibbled upon the rolls with sweet cream butter and waited for the next course.

The soup came in, a spicy tomato bisque with lentils and sausage. All of them ate quickly, and drank more water.

Nesmay kept an eye on Jarillion, noting in profound delight that the prince drained both his water _and_ wine glass.

Then she waited with indrawn breath for the potion to take effect.

Five minutes went by. Jarillion wasn't displaying any effects of losing his coherence and becoming dull-witted, as should have been the case with a mind-altering Draft of Command.

He tapped his glass for a refill and the unseen air sprites filled up his glass again.

Then the main course arrived, some kind of roast in gravy with winter vegetables and roasted chicken with potatoes.

But none of the children could eat more than a few bites, suspecting that something had gone horribly wrong with the potion.

It had been ten minutes and Jarillion was still alert as ever.

_Bright Lady save me, but I've failed!_ Nesmay wailed inwardly. _Why isn't it affecting him? Where did I go wrong? Was the recipe a dud?_ She swallowed hard and fought to keep from scratching at her collar, or bursting into tears. She slowly chewed and swallowed a tender piece of meat. It tasted like charcoal upon her tongue.

Harry kept his eyes down on his plate, though all of his nerves were attuned to the prince seated next to him. He had seen Jarillion swallow the wine, and wondered why the potion hadn't taken effect yet. Was it due to Jarillion's natural magic resistance? Or the fact that the potion had been diluted in wine. He recalled Severus telling him once that potions mixed with other substances often lost some of their potency, one reason why he never mixed them or added sweetener to them. _Damn and double damn!_ He pushed some potatoes around on his plate and ate one.

Draco quietly ate a few more bites of chicken while silently counting the minutes since Jarillion had imbibed. Fifteen minutes now. Why was it taking so long? Then he recalled Snape's instructions about mixing potions as well and prayed the potion would still work. _It has to work! It just has to! _

Jarillion ate calmly, enjoying his food and occasionally quizzing one or the other of them on some terms and spell procedures.

Nesmay eyed him while she chewed a bite of meat. Were his eyes getting heavy? Was he starting to pause between words?

Just then there came a tremor through the castle.

All the dishes and glasses rattled as the castle shook.

"What the hell?" cried Draco as his water goblet spilled into his lap.

"Is it an earthquake?" cried Harry.

Jarillion shot to his feet as the castle shuddered violently once more. There was something terribly wrong. "No. I believe . . . we're under attack!" he snarled.

The three apprentices exchanged glances. The only people they knew who would dare storm the castle were Severus and Sarai. At last, the rescue party was here.

The Winter prince scowled and shouted, "Bloodheart! Get your mercenaries up here! Array them in the entrance with crossbows, to give whoever dares attack us a warm welcome. How the bloody blazes did they get past the wards and the time shift?"

He slammed a hand down upon a wall and they saw the stone shimmer with blue, violet and green light. A moment later he removed his hand and swore furiously.

The three apprentices looked at each other, wanting to cheer. Even if the potion didn't work, at least Jarillion had other things to worry about. Though Nesmay was still hoping the effects of the draught were delayed only and it would still affect the Unseelie lord enough for her to make him remove the collar.

RPMRPMRPM

Baba Yaga's hut travelled at a swift pace through the Waste. It glided and hovered more than a true flight, but it could move very fast, and was a much better way to cross the dangerous frozen tundra than walking. Both Severus and Sarai were grateful for the old witch's intervention, as it enabled them to find their missing charges that much sooner. Even so, the Waste was so vast that it took the hut two days to reach the place where Jarillion's fortress was.

Or had been.

Upon their arrival at the place where the fortress had been, Baba Yaga scowled and muttered something very uncomplimentary in Russian. Then she looked at her two guests and said, "He has taken his fortress out of time."

"Out of time?" Severus repeated. "What do you mean?"

"Here in Faerie time can run differently than in the mortal realm, especially if a fae lord knows how to manipulate it. Since Jarillion was tutored by both myself and my sister Maeve, he would have learned the spells to take an object, person, or place out of time—meaning he has moved his fortress into a pocket of space where time runs according to his whim. If I had to guess, he has made time run slower than usual in order to gain something h wishes from one of your children . . . or perhaps all of them," Baba Yaga said ominously.

"You mean, he has caused time to slow down so that minutes are like hours and hours days?" clarified the Potions Master.

"Yes. It's a classic fae trick, to extend time."

"How do you know that's what he's done?"

"Because I can feel it. Time maneuvering leaves a very obvious trail in the magical ether, for one who knows how to look for it."

"But then, that would mean . . . he could have had Harry, Draco, and Nesmay in his grasp for much longer than a week or so," Severus cried. "Baba Yaga, is there a way to cancel the spell and bring the fortress back?"

She chuckled wickedly. "Of course there is. It would require a practitioner of much stronger ability who knows how to manipulate the timestream. Fortunately, you have me. But know this, after I have called the fortress back, you two must be ready to enter it, for then he will know and be prepared for an attack."

"We'll be ready, Gloriana," Sarai assured her, tightening her hand around the pommel of her sword.

The ancient sorceress drew a long gnarled staff and began to trace several symbols in the air, chanting some words in the fae language over and over.

There came a fierce crackle of magic in the air and Baba Yaga thrust her will against the spell Jarillion had cast. For a moment, she met resistance, but then her magic prevailed.

The air split apart and suddenly a large stone fortress appeared before them, towering high into the heavens, floating easily upon the clouds, lightning and magical energy crackling in purple, blue, and red streamers all over it.

Sarai peered up at it, noting that there seemed to be no guards upon the ramparts or at the gates. Perhaps Jarillion was not as formidable as he had led others to believe. Or he truly was that arrogant. Such overconfidence had been the death of many another enemy before him, she mused, before recalling her pledge to bring the perfidious Unseelie back alive for the Queens' Justice.

Baba Yaga cackled. "Ah, nephew! Such a green fool, to think you were safe from my revenge!" She pointed her staff at the locked portcullis and a shaft of pure magical energy shot out and shattered the barred gate to pieces. Then she turned to her two visitors. "I have done all that I may, wizard and warrior. Now it's your turn to find your children and fulfill the bargain. May the Bright One guide your hands." She brought the hut very close to the edge of the ground surrounding the base of the fortress, and opened the door. "Go, quickly!"

Severus, Sarai, and Cafall shot out of the hut and landed on the grassy plot of land, then sprinted towards the fallen gate and the gaping hole left in Baba Yaga's wake. Severus ran forward, his Staff of the Magi pointed outward, ever alert for any magical traps, but there were none. Sarai was a few steps behind, also scanning the area for an ambush.

But all was still, save for the smoke arising from the shattered gates and crumbled stone. It appeared they had taken the Winter prince by surprise.

Faces grim, the two raced into the keep, silent as wraiths from night's dark tomb.

RPMRPMRPM

As soon as Jarillion realized his fortress had been yanked out of the pocket he had created where time was subject to his whim, he knew he was dealing with one very powerful practitioner of magic. Most likely one of his old enemies, possibly a relative. Doubtless one who might be able to harm him before being destroyed. That being so, he took steps to safeguard himself, and called upon the ancient guardian of his fortress, a creature he had made an alliance with long ago, when he first claimed the keep for his own.

"Skrymer!" he bellowed. "Awake! We have intruders!"

At the far end of the dining hall there came a tremendous groan, as if the very stones had been yanked up by the roots. Then came a sound like a dozen trees falling and what Harry had thought was a statue of a giant came to life. It was over twelve feet tall, and had skin the color of a blue glacier and a forked white beard and wild flowing hair that looked like icicles. It had a face that was all sharp angles with a nose like a hatchet blade and eyes the color of a midwinter storm. It's massive body was covered with a thick furry pelt, and across its back was a gigantic silvery axe. A belt across its middle held some odd looking tails, which Harry suddenly recognized as scalps and shriveled ears . . . the pointed ears of the fae. It had blue cloth trousers on. The giant's feet were encased in boots and when it turned to look at Jarillion, the sound of its steps was like muted thunder.

"My lord, you called? Where are the intruders?"

Its voice was the deep echo of the ice when it moved across the ocean, deep and resonant and surprisingly intelligent.

"They are coming, Skrymer. Be prepared to fight them to the death." Jarillion ordered, summoning his sword and buckling it on.

By then it had been almost twenty minutes since he had swallowed the drugged frost wine, and Nesmay was half-afraid that it would never work. Perhaps the wine had ruined the entire draft? She wanted to scream.

The Winter prince turned then to his apprentices. "It's time to put into practice what you've learned, children." He purred, his eyes cold and malevolent.

Harry felt an icy chill run down his backbone. He clenched his fist over his wand. "Master?" he said softly.

"Come here, little Snape," Jarillion commanded, his tone hard as iron.

Harry reluctantly rose to his feet and came towards the other.

Draco followed, instantly on alert and suspicious. He thought perhaps Jarillion wished to treat them like shields or something. He considered trying to Stun the bastard, but before he could draw his wand, he felt an odd sensation flow over him.

His limbs were like jelly, they refused to obey him and his head was spinning round and round like a top and felt filled with cotton batting. _What's happening to me? I feel so . . odd._

_Draco Malfoy, you will now obey my every command. What I say, you shall do, no matter what. Understand?_

The voice in his head was hard and sharp, it pierced him and caused him to cry out in pain. He felt as if his head were about to split open, and he could do nothing except nod in acceptance.

Harry too was undergoing the same fight, as Jarillion attempted to take over his mind as well, forcing him to obey his every whim. But Harry seemed to have a natural resistance for such mind magics, he had inherited his indomitable will from his father, had Jarillion only known. He tried to push Jarillion's hate-filled sword-sharp voice away, though resisting made him feel as if his head were being split in two by a large ice pick.

_Resistance is futile, boy. Surrender to me and the pain shall stop. Surrender, and fight my enemies, who are yours also. They're coming for you, boy. To kill you!_

Harry shook his head, tears filling his eyes. _No! Get out of my head, dammit! You lie!_

Jarillion's laughter echoed in his head, stabbing him with a thousand frozen needles. _You are strong, boy, but I am the master! And . . . you . . .shall . . . obey . . . ME!_

Harry screamed in agony as Jarillion's spell seared into his mind, forcing him to obey the commands Jarillion set him. He crumpled to his knees, gasping as red-hot compulsion flooded his brain and his will was no longer his own.

"Jarillion! My lord, what are you doing to them?" Nesmay cried.

"Making them into my perfect soldiers," answered the prince. "Now they will fight and die for me, no matter what."

Nesmay's eyes widened in horror. What the prince had done was among the most forbidden things, and she longed to be free of the collar so she could tear him to shreds with her wild magic. But even as she struggled against the collar, she knew it was futile. She was trapped and would stay that way unless by some miracle the potion worked or whoever had come knocking on Jarillion's front door killed him.

She glared at him. "Can you not fight your own battles, my lord?" she asked silkily. "Are you not the most powerful sorcerer of Winter?"

"Even so, my sweet. But that is what apprentices are for . . . to defend their masters when needed." Jarillion gloated.

Before Nesmay could reply, she heard the clash of steel beyond the dining hall, shouts of redcaps bellowing war cries and the familiar howl of a hunting misthound. "Cafall!" she yelled.

Where the misthound was, Severus and Sarai couldn't be far behind, she thought excitedly.

A cruel smile spread across Jarillion's lips. "So . . . the half-breed and her lover have sought me out at last. What a family reunion!" He snickered mockingly. "Shall we give them a proper welcome, boys?"

"Yes, Master Jarillion," came the response, cold and utterly without any feeling at all.

Jarillion felt a thrill of triumph spread through him.

The sounds of battle were growing louder, and then the door to the hall was slammed open by a violent gust of wind.

Severus Snape stood framed in the entryway, his black cloak swirling in tatters about him, his robes torn and bloody, his hair flying back in the wind that he had conjured. His eyes were burning with a terrible hatred as they caught sight of the Winter prince. "Jarillion, what have you done with my children?" he rasped. The staff in his hand crackled with ambient magical energy.

"Why, dear cousin, they are here," Jarillion said, and he bowed mockingly. "See? Safe and sound." He gestured to where Harry and Draco were standing, still as stone statues. "Well, except for the fact that they belong to me now." His eyes hardened.

"Severus!" Nesmay called.

"Nesmay," he said, but his eyes never left Jarillion. At least the girl seemed all right. "What have you done to my sons?"

"Boys, give your father a warm welcome, won't you?" ordered Jarillion. Then he shouted a command in the fae tongue. _"Savath teljor!"_

Both Draco and Harry lifted their wands and began casting, summoning fire imps to roast the enemy before them, who had come to kill them all.

**Hope you all liked this chapter. I was going to have the full battle in here, but decided it needed its own chapter so it could be focused on better. What do you think will happen now? Will Jarillion succumb to the potion finally? Or will the boys attack Severus and hurt him? How will Snape react?**

**Oh and don't roast me for the cliffy, you knew there would be one . . .didn't you? **

**By the way, I've posted a new Snape one-shot and would like people to read it, it's a parody but I thought it appropriate for April Fool's. It's called Severus Snape and Some Drunken Harry Potter Fans.**


	60. The Thawing of the Winter Prince

**60**

**The Thawing of the Winter Prince**

Hearing the syllables of dark magic flow from his sons' lips made Severus shudder and grow pale, disbelief mingling with fury at how the Winter prince had corrupted his innocent children. He wanted to blast Jarillion off the face of the earth. Never had he been so hard pressed to control his temper. It was his worst nightmare, the scenario he had hoped he would never have to face, that he had contemplated occurring only in the darkest part of the night. He felt his guts twist at the mere thought of dueling or harming his children. But he looked into the eyes of his sons and saw the dull blank stare of those under a compulsion spell, their free will enslaved to that of the dark fae, and he tasted the sharp bitter tang of despair, even as he prepared to defend himself. _My boys! How can I fight them? Then again, how can I not? I am no sacrificial lamb. Heaven help us all._

Jarillion felt the familiar swirls of dark magic coalescing into a portal, from whence the fire imps would come through, and he gloated, laughing mockingly at the black-clad sorcerer. "What shall you do now, Severus Snape? 'Twould seem to me you have two choices—either to die by your sons' hands, or to destroy them. Which shall you choose?"

Severus glared at him fit to kill, and made no reply. He couldn't afford to waste his strength exchanging infantile insults. He had to be prepared to counter whatever Harry or Draco summoned. The Staff of the Magi glowed white hot in his hands. Behind him, he could hear the clash of steel and cries of pain as Sarai dealt with the last of the troublesome orcs and redcaps that had guarded the main hall of the keep. She had bade him continue onward while she mopped up, and Cafall assisted her.

Nesmay felt her heart turn over as she saw Severus prepare to face his sons in combat. No! This could not be happening. "Don't!" she shouted, pitching her voice to carry over the sounds of battle from the corridor. "Harry! Draco! Don't do this! He's your _father_! Remember? He loves you . . .you can't fight your own _father_!" She infused her words with the age-old Seelie gift of persuasion, that all fae possessed in greater or lesser degree, half-blood or not. Nesmay had never had cause to use it before, though the royal house had inherited the gift at its strongest. Titania could hold an entire room captive on the strength of her voice alone. But Nesmay was no Titania. Still, the gift worked very well upon mortals, though less so on fae.

Her words struck the two boys like arrows, causing them to hesitate in their casting, to halt for a moment, and allow their wills a chance to battle the insidious hold Jarillion had on their minds.

It all happened in the fraction of an instant.

In the next instant, Jarillion whirled upon his traitorous young betrothed, and snarled, "Spawn of bitches! You _dare_ subvert my orders?" His fist lashed out, knocking her to the floor, but that was not the worst consequence of her disobedience.

The collar activated and she began to gasp and writhe upon the floor, as red hot pain seared her, causing her breath to rasp in her throat as the agony drove all thought of further rebellion from her mind. She screamed once, then saw spots dance before her eyes, and as the pain mounted, she felt herself fading away.

"Bastard!" Severus shouted, and unleashed a meteor swarm upon the Unseelie prince. "Leave her be!"

Jarillion backstepped hastily, trying to both avoid and counter the fiery projectiles at the same time. "Attack!" he yelled at the two apprentices.

But neither of them responded, as both were caught up in their own titanic struggle, as the commands of their dark master warred with the desires of their own hearts.

Jarillion flung an ice bolt at Severus, who brought up his staff and absorbed the magical bolt. Incensed at the other's prowess, the prince shouted, "Skrymer! Rid me of this black nuisance! Crush him and stomp on his brains and use his bones for a toothpick."

"With pleasure, Lord Jarillion," boomed the frost giant, and he unslung the axe from his back and started forward, smiling in grim delight. "Another wizard to add to my collection. Har!"

Severus started to turn to face this new threat, when a slender figure wielding a shining sword interposed herself between them. "If you want a piece of Sev, you'll have to go through me first, Skrymer!"

Sarai caught the downward strike of the giant's axe and turned it aside with a casual snap of both wrists, letting the impact slide down her sword and be deflected into the ground. She then lunged forward, slipping beneath the frost giant's guard and stabbing the vain creature in the kneecap.

Skrymer bellowed and swiped at her again, but again Sarai was too quick, and danced away. It was like watching a bumblebee fighting an elephant, as the Blade used her superior skill and speed to inflict many cuts upon the frost giant's hide, though none were serious enough to be fatal. Yet.

The giant raised his hobnailed boot and attempted to squash Sarai into the floor, much the way she would have squashed a bug. "Run, little fae!" Skrymer taunted. "Run and hide, before I carve off your ears and add them to the rest!" He chortled and patted the rawhide thing where shriveled ears hung, all the victims he had killed in his service to the Unseelie.

"That's what you said last time you and I fought," Sarai snorted, jumping over the giant's massive boot and spinning about. She kicked him hard behind the knee, a _kin-sa-dor_ move that would have crippled a lesser opponent. Her strike was accurate, but Skrymer did not crumple under the assault as would have a normal sized adversary. But he did howl as the tendons in the back of his knee tore and his leg began to cave slightly. "Remember, Skrymer? I met you years ago, when you still served Maeve as her bodyguard and I was her hostage. You threatened then to cut off my ears. But, like all your kind, you've naught between your ears, and all you blow is hot air."

Skrymer groaned and turned, bringing his axe down in a short chopping motion. It barely missed the lithe Blade. "I remember you, Captain Valinek. And I swore one day I'd get even for you humiliating me in front of my Queen. It was you who caused me to be banished from court!" he accused, his eyes hard as glacier ice. He began to hack and slash at the slender warrior, going into a blood frenzy, his silveron axe a blur.

The Blade dodged each strike as best she could, using her centuries of experience to anticipate where Skrymer was going to strike before he actually did it, a form of heightened mental awareness that was a hallmark of a _kin-sa-dor_ master. Even with his bloodlust upon him, Skrymer was not quite as fast as Sarai, and though he was stronger, larger, and had more endurance, he had yet to land a single blow upon his smaller opponent.

Sarai, knowing full well that a single well-placed strike could cripple or kill her, intended to keep it that way. But her continual game of evade and stab was wearing on her, and she knew she needed to land a fatal blow soon, before her strength failed.

As she danced the waltz of death with the blue-skinned monster, Cafall attacked the giant from behind, leaping up to slash at the thick tendons in the back of Skrymer's calves. The misthound's teeth managed to puncture the giant's thick skin, but Skrymer's hide was tough and Cafall's teeth did not penetrate too far below the surface. The frost giant barely felt the hound's bite.

Undaunted, Cafall attacked again, this time springing up and getting a grip upon the giant's calf, using his razor sharp incisors to gnaw and tear at the giant's flesh, until his teeth encountered the ropy tendon.

Skrymer snarled a curse word in the fae tongue, and reached around behind him, trying to swat the pesky hound.

In doing so, however, he left himself vulnerable.

RPMRPMRPM

From far away, through a red choking mist and a smothering iron grip upon his conscious mind, Harry heard Nesmay's voice, calling to him. _"Harry! Draco! Don't do this! He's your father! Remember? He loves you . . .you can't fight your own **father**!" _

The fae girl's voice was filled with urgency and anxiety, it made him try once again to brush off the Unseelie's cold grip and recall that the tall wizard standing in front of him, battered and bloodied, was not the enemy Jarillion would make him.

_He's your father!_

Harry squinted, trying to concentrate and ignore Jarillion's sadistic urgings to finish casting the spell to summon the fire imps. _My father. My father is here. He's finally here._ That thought filled him with joy and relief, yet also shame. He did not want Severus to see him this way, all twisted up and bent to the will of his dark master. He did not want his father to know what he had become—corrupted by the dark, no longer Severus' good son. _He's going to be so disappointed in me . . . I'm no longer worthy to be the Heir to Prince Manor, he'll disown me now . . . or the manor will . . ._ He felt a terrible ache deep within him at the thought of losing the manor, of losing the sacred trust that was a bond between the wizard and the land.

In the next instant he felt rage flood him in a red hot tide, and suddenly he heard Jarillion in his mind, ordering him to attack Severus Snape.

**He is the enemy, now finish him! Do it!**

Harry felt himself lift his wand, point it at the other, who was now under assault from the frost giant as well, and he heard his lips saying the incantation to call the capricious imps and set them upon the Potions Master.

But another part of his mind, the part that was not under Jarillion's influence, was screaming and sobbing frantically. _No! You can't do this! He's your father! He'd never harm you. Stop! You don't hate him . . .you love him._

Jarillion's command pounded him relentlessly, making his head throb, and stabbing pain slammed him behind his eyes. **Finish the spell. Finish it. You are the dark apprentice and must obey.**

Against the other's iron will he had only his own memories . . .memories of Severus rescuing him from his hellish life under Vernon Dursley, memories of Snape teaching him how to write with a quill, brew a decent potion, telling him stories of Lily . . ._she was the best thing in my life then, and you are the best thing now, a part of her lives on in you, my son, and thus she shall never be forgotten . . ._more memories, of Snape holding him and rocking him after those dreadful anxiety attacks brought on by his terrible nightmares, playing Dragon's Wild with him and Draco, Severus teaching him _kin-sa-dor_ . . ._block high, like this, and never forget to watch your enemy . . .always clear your mind before you begin . . .clear your mind . . clear your mind . . ._Severus hugging him before he boarded the Hogwarts Express . . ._no man could ask for better sons. I love you . . ._

And Severus truly did love him, without reservations, loved him the way he had always wished a father to love him, when he was growing up at Privet Drive. In spite of all the aggravating and foolish things Harry did, Severus' love had never faltered.

How then could he destroy the one who loved him best of all?

**Attack!**

_No! I won't! _he yelled back, ignoring the splitting pain in his head. _I won't hurt my father. Not now, not ever. I'd rather die first!_

With that, he made one last desperate effort to break the compulsion, throwing everything he had against the barrier of red pain and cold icy darkness. He had learned from Smidgen how to face his fears and conquer them, and this was no different.

_I am nobody's pawn! I am my own person and I . . .will . . . be . . . free . . . of **you**!_

He felt the wall shudder and begin to crumble as his determination and iron will broke it down. From his Snape ancestors he had inherited a legendary stubbornness and indomitable will and it was this that saved him now. Jarillion might be a master of compulsion, and his love of discord second to none, but one thing he had never understood—and that was how the ties of blood and love bound one another, a love so powerful that even the best spell of obedience could not compel Harry to destroy Severus.

Harry turned, tears of pain blurring his vision, to see Draco still casting, and he screamed, "Stop! Draco, it's Dad. He's not the enemy! Draco . . .it's _Dad_!"

The blond Slytherin turned to him, and Harry could see a similar struggle being waged in the other's mind as well. "Harry . . .help me . . .can't seem to break . . .away . . ."

Draco was gasping and sweat dribbled down his forehead. He was fighting the compulsion with everything he had, yet it wasn't enough. It wasn't that he lacked the power to break the spell's hold, but he had been conditioned since a small child by Lucius to obey the dark compulsion the magic engendered. Lucius had wanted the perfect dark son, tutored in spells of darkness since before he attended Hogwarts, and taught that nothing mattered as much as pleasing his father, living up to the prestige of the Malfoy Name, and using whatever means necessary to achieve his goals. Draco, ever the obedient child, had followed Lucius down the dark path.

It had been Severus who had shown the young boy that there was another way, that tradition and honor did not have to be mingled with blood and death and darkness. That being a good son did not mean learning dark magic. That he did not have to bind himself to a mad wizard as had the rest of his family. That he could refuse the legacy of shadow and walk out into the light, a free man.

But now the darkness had hold of his soul again, and once more it was whispering to him, sweet seductive poison, to the damned part of his psyche. _Surrender and all shall be well. You have missed this, the feeling of domination, of sheer power. The strong shall crush the weak and helpless, remember how it felt? The sweet rush, the pleasure, power for power's sake alone . . .with no one to tell you what to do ever again. . ._

Draco felt the old craving beginning again, woken from slumber by Jarillion's compulsion. The old selfish longing to use the dark magic, and to keep using it, for that was the trap of the Lefthand path, once you began using steadily, you craved more and more, like an addict, and soon you couldn't stop.

Draco had not been far along the path when Severus had intervened, but even the short time he had been exposed to it had caused him to become slightly addicted. He had thought he had buried the craving too deep to ever be a problem, repudiating utterly the Malfoy legacy. He had thought he could handle the small doses of dark magic Jarillion exposed him to, escaping unscathed.

He had forgotten just how insidious the black arts were, how they corrupted one gradually, like gangrene in a wound.

The words to the dark summoning slipped off his tongue like an oft-remembered favorite verse, effortless, and as the dark magic washed through him, he felt the last of his resistance crumbling.

Nesmay's cry had reached him, snapping him out of his complacency, of the instinctive need to obey, and now he realized what he had almost done.

He had almost attacked his adopted father, the one man who had treated Draco like a child instead of a pawn, who had loved the lonely boy for himself alone, and who had shown him the path to redemption.

**Kill him!** urged the dark prince.

Draco felt himself cringe at the thought, but he could not seem to escape the dark snare. Whichever way he turned, he could not get away from the terrible need to heed the commands of the Winter Prince. His eyes darted about the room, finally fixing upon his brother. He managed to speak a few words. "Help . . .me . . ."

He stared into the other's emerald green eyes . . .the color of life . . .of renewal . . .and then he felt a hand clasp his . . . and a fresh surge of strength entered him.

The power flowing from Harry filled Draco with hope, he gathered it to him like a warm cloak and used it to banish the icy dark forever from his soul.

"Draco, remember what Dad taught us? To fight and never give up? That way the dark can never win?" Harry asked. "So fight!"

"It's . . . so . . .hard . . ."

All he wanted right then was to surrender to the siren call of the dark, so then the migraine he had developed retreated and he could feel the rush of darkness in his blood once more.

"I'll help you," Harry promised, then he began talking to Draco, recalling anecdotes and incidents, both in school and out, and how much Severus loved him.

Suddenly Draco recalled the time Pansy had cursed him, and the way Snape had taken care of him, had always taken care of him, even before Draco was his ward. Snape had been there, as Head, mentor, and godfather, giving him loving discipline and proving that the son of a Malfoy could become a decent member of the human race. He recalled the words Severus had spoken after the Malfoy trial, after his mother had so cruelly rejected him and his decision.

_You have me and Harry, we're you're family now, and we'll never cast you out, no matter what. You're **my** son, not hers._

_I'm Snape's son, not Lucius'. _He thought, gritting his teeth.

"You're my brother, and I won't let him turn you to the dark," Harry encouraged. "Fight him, Draco! Together . . . we . . . can . . . _win_."

Harry's touch acted as a catalyst, firming Draco's resolve and letting him cast off the specter of the dark magician, shutting away the addictive force of the dark magic. Then something happened that was unprecedented and unforeseen. Draco's magic entwined with Harry's and doubled, giving both the strength they needed to shatter Jarillion's hold upon them.

Draco felt the compulsion crumble just as Severus pointed his wand and disarmed them.

RPMRPMRPM

Severus was worried that Sarai would need his help to defeat the frost giant, but just then he knew he had to concentrate upon Jarillion, and the foul compulsion he had laid upon his sons. He hoped that by keeping the Winter prince busy fighting him, it would lessen the hold the fae had upon the two boys, enabling them to free themselves of the spell. He was well aware that Harry had inherited the Prince resistance to mind control, and he prayed that Draco could endure long enough to outlast the spell as well.

But right then Severus knew that he had to make sure the boys couldn't flank him and send dark creatures to attack him. So he disarmed them with a swift _"Expelliarmus!"_ Then he spun and began to rain bolt after bolt of destructive magic down upon the Unseelie who had been stupid enough to dare harm his children.

Jarillion soon realized that even though he was skilled in combat magic and at his strongest in the walls of his own keep, he was no match for the furious Severus wielding the Staff of the Magi. The Staff gave the black-robed sorcerer a distinct advantage in combat, since it could absorb negative magical energy thrown at its wielder and then transmute it into magic of the holder's choosing.

The Winter Prince found himself ducking spell after spell, fireballs and wind gusts that singed and burnt him and slammed him against the far wall of his hall. For every spell he countered, Severus had another that left him bleeding and breathless. He had never encountered quite so formidable a foe before, unless it was his mother or his two aunts, both of whom were ancient matriarchs and wielded magic no ordinary fae could.

He summoned ice furies, lesser demons from the Outer planes, and sent them against the half-blood, hoping they would tear the dark-haired wizard to pieces. It was inconceivable that he be defeated by a mere mortal wizard and his half-breed lover, on his own ground, no less!

Severus dodged as a shimmering winged crystalline wasp appeared before him, and tried to sting him with its poisoned proboscis. He was unsure what Jarillion had summoned, but could tell that it was both deadly and born in the heart of the frozen northland. More of them came at him until a full two dozen surrounded him.

He used the staff and knocked several of them down, each time the black wood connected with one, it incinerated the fury with a sharp sizzling hiss. But he knew there were too many for him to fight in that manner, and so he summoned the sirocco—the burning fiery desert wind that scoured flesh and stone alike—and flung it at the wasp-like creatures.

Then he conjured a quick Extra-Strength Shield Charm and watched in satisfaction as the wicked wasps were destroyed. He banished the sirocco, not wanting it to run amok and harm the children. That done, he paused for breath, he was far from reaching his limit thanks to the staff, but even he was not able to cast continuously for fifteen minutes using such advanced magic.

He glared daggers at Jarillion, who was leaning against a wall, also trying to regain his equilibrium. The Unseelie was pale as snow, and looked like he wanted to pass out. Snape wished he would oblige them and do just that.

A few feet away, Nesmay lay still on the floor, her body wracked by nauseating pain as the collar disciplined her for her rash decision to defy her lord and master. The pain was so great that she fled her body, projecting herself astrally into the Place Between Worlds, where spirits both light, dark, and gray roamed at will.

At last the grinding burning pain ceased and she could breathe again. Only to discover she didn't need to. She looked about and saw nothing but a gray swirling mist. Mist and shadows. _Sun, moon, and stars, am I dead?_

She glanced down at her feet and saw a silvery shining cord, falling back down to . . . somewhere else. _What's happened to me? Where am I?_ Panicked and scared, she tugged upon the silvery cord and felt herself floating back down its length.

Soon she found herself hovering over the hall, watching the battle raging between Severus and Jarillion, Sarai and Skrymer, and Harry and Draco as they fought to throw off the compulsion Jarillion had set. She saw her body, lying limp and still, like a thrown away ragdoll. Tears prickled her eyes.

She had failed everyone. Her cousins, herself, Severus, her grandmother. She had proven Oberon right after all. She was a mere half-blood bastard, too weak to stand up to an Unseelie, too stupid to brew a proper Draft of Command. Her uncle was right, she brought nothing but sorrow and destruction wherever she went.

More tears followed, proving the legend false that ghosts could not weep. Or perhaps she was not yet a ghost? She looked down at herself, her form was transparent and misty, but strangely she felt almost . . .solid.

She peered again at the battle unfolding before her, saw both Severus and Jarillion pause in their furious duel. She focused upon the Unseelie prince, wondering for the thousandth time why the perfect draft she had thought she had brewed had failed so spectacularly.

Jarillion mopped his brow, which glistened with sweat. Odd, she had never seen him sweat before this. Was it stress? Fear? Or something else?

He put a hand to his head, as if it ached. There was an odd expression in his eyes. Confusion . . .pain . . .puzzlement . . .almost as if . . .the potion were starting to take effect . . .

Nesmay's heart leapt. Perhaps the potion's effects had only been delayed. If that were so . . .then she needed to go back to her body. She shuddered. The pain that had driven her from her physical self had been awful, worse than anything she had ever experienced. _I have to go back . . . but I'm so afraid! I don't want to feel that horrible pain again. It hurt so much . . ._ she whimpered. But she knew she would have to endure it, for if the potion were active, only she could command Jarillion to remove the collar. Or to remove the spell upon the boys. _Coward!_ She rebuked herself stingingly. _Are you Aislinn's daughter or aren't you? _

She drew in a deep breath. Her family was down there, fighting for their lives and their sanity. She could do no less. But she was terrified of experiencing the dreadful agony again. She trembled, shutting her eyes. _I must be brave. I must be brave. Grandmother, help me. _She recalled Titania's face, cool and serene, as beautiful as a marble statue carved by a master artist. _Child, one day I fear you shall be tested harshly, and this you should remember when your darkest hour has come—the worst harm anyone can do is to watch and do nothing while evil prevails. You must act, for even the smallest action has a consequence, and in doing so you shall thwart the greatest evil of all._

She must act. For herself, for Severus, and for Harry and Draco. She swallowed the bitter taste of fear and slid down the silvery cord which connected her spirit to her body.

She gasped for breath, her throat raw from screaming. She felt as if ten hundred giants had stomped her flat. Every muscle in her body screamed, as she slowly lifted her head. Jarillion, where was Jarillion? She turned her head and saw her nemesis shaking his head as if to clear it. Then she felt a strange sensation within her, a connection to the fae lord. She could sense what he felt—tired, confused, angry, filled with a burning desire to kill Severus and Sarai, to crush his enemies beneath his boots for daring to invade his home. She gritted her teeth and sent a thought down the strand of silver binding her to the fae prince.

**Jarillion! Heed me!**

Slowly, the prince turned his head. "My lady? I am yours to command."

Nesmay felt a smile of triumph creep over her face. She opened her mouth to speak the words that would free the boys, when she heard Harry shout, "Take this, Jarillion!"

A crackling bolt of blue force exploded from his outstretched hands and struck the prince full on.

Jarillion screamed, his tunic smoking, and slumped to the ground.

Nesmay gaped, realizing only then that the two were free of the compulsion. Which meant she could demand her own release. **Jarillion, I command thee to free me from the Collar of Obedience. Release me!**

Jarillion fought her then, but he was in too much pain to truly concentrate on shaking off her command, and he spoke the word to unfasten the collar before he knew what he was about.

The collar unlocked and Nesmay tugged it off, flinging it upon the ground in distaste.

Her neck was raw and red from where the collar had rubbed her skin. But she was free! At last, she was free!

She felt her wild magic surge up from the core of her being. She climbed to her feet, ignoring the sharp cramps that raced through her legs. Then she turned to face the Winter prince, her teeth bared in a parody of a smile. "Jarillion, my sweet," she purred in a voice that was high and shrill, like a child's, but carrying all the menace of a virago. "I have a score to settle with you."

The magic of her wizard father came at her beckon, in a rush of wind and fire, crackling about her like chained lightning.

Jarillion knew then that he was a dead man.

RPMRPMRPM

Sarai saw the opening Skrymer had left an instant before her feet hit the ground. Using her left foot as a pivot, she snapped her body about in a half-turn and sprang upwards, running halfway up the giant's side. Her sword found its mark beneath the massive behemoth's arm, stabbing straight through and cutting a major artery.

Blood spurted and Skrymer let out a deathly howl and went to one knee. Sarai threw herself backwards, twisting her body lithely to land on her feet some five feet away. She whistled for Cafall, so the hound would not be crushed by the mighty giant's death throes.

Cafall came, his muzzle tinted with blood, still snarling. "Good dog," Sarai praised, stroking the dog's ears. Cafall wagged his tail, then turned to see where Severus was. He immediately stiffened and all the hair stood up along his back. He gave a curious half-growl, half-whine.

Sarai glanced back to see what had prompted the hound's reaction and her breath caught in her throat.

Nesmay stood, swaying slightly, one hand outstretched, pointed at Jarillion, her face a mask of terrible hatred, her magic crackling wildly about her.

_Oh, bloody damn hell!_ Sarai swore. Much as she wished Jarillion consigned to the Abyss for his crimes, she could not let Nesmay have her revenge, however justified. In order to fulfill the bargain made with Baba Yaga, they had to bring Jarillion back alive.

"Nesmayallindra Highstar! Hold your hand!" Sarai shouted, using her drill sergeant voice, the same tone she used on new recruits who had been insubordinate.

It had the same effect upon Titania's granddaughter as it did on any of her recruits.

Nesmay froze.

Then she turned her head to shoot a death glare at the Blade. "What for, Captain? He deserves death after what he's done to us!"

"You're right," Sarai answered calmly, sheathing her sword and coming to stand beside Severus, who had his own staff leveled at the Winter Prince's throat. "But it's not your place to mete out justice, however much it is deserved. That belongs to the Queen alone. He has trespassed against both Titania and Maeve, broken all the Accords, and they shall decide his fate."

Nesmay blinked. Then her jaw firmed and she said coldly, "Why not save them the trouble? Let it end here."

"That is not justice, Nesmay. Only revenge. His crimes are such that he deserves to face the judgment of the Courts." Sarai persuaded.

"I don't care!" the girl shouted, and her magic crackled and snapped in response to her distress. "I want him _dead_, don't you understand? You don't know what he did to us . . .he made us practice dark magic . . .he tried to make me become my _father_! And when I refused . . . he _hurt_ me . . .and hurt Draco and Harry too." Tears were trickling down her cheeks. "He hurt all of us so bad, Sarai! I just want him to die! I want to turn him inside out, the rotten bastard!"

"I know, child." Severus spoke up then, sympathy coloring his tone. "Believe me, I want the same as you. He deserves to be crucioed and then killed. But Sarai is right. However much we long to take the law into our own hands, we must exercise restraint and let the courts decide his fate, for good or ill. Otherwise we're no better than vigilantes. Also, Sarai and I made a bargain with the Witch of the North that we would bring Jarillion to justice, for she too has a bone to pick with him. Stand down, Nesmay."

The girl defiantly remained where she was, a pulsing ball of magic cupped in her palm. With a single flick of her wrist she could throw it at Jarillion and burn him to ash. It would be so easy. . .so very easy . . . she hated the Unseelie prince as she had hated no one ever, not even her dwarven tutor. And yet . . . what Severus had said made sense. Jarillion had crossed all lines when he had kidnapped them. And the justice of the courts was never lenient. Still . . .

"Listen to me," Severus tried again, sensing the girl was at crossroads. "I understand you want him dead. But his blood should not be on your hands, child. You're too young to have that burden to bear."

"I can kill him, Severus!" she snapped. The ball of energy flickered and danced upon her palm.

"I know you can. But if you do, what will that make you, Nesmayallindra? A murderer at twelve years old. No matter how you justify it, you will have used your power to take a life. Do you really want to taint yourself that way? Do you want to follow the path of blood and death that your father walked? For he too killed young—killed his own father and grandfather for revenge, as they rejected his witch mother and left her to die alone in the orphanage where he was raised. He too thought he was justified. But he was wrong. And his act of murder tainted his magic and stained his soul, he found it easy to kill, and kill he did—anyone who disagreed with him or stood in his way. You told me once you would never become like him. But if you kill Jarillion, Nesmayallindra, you certainly shall be Lord Voldemort's trueborn daughter. Is that what you wish?"

Nesmay's face twisted in an agony of indecision. She hated Jarillion, oh so much! But did she want to risk going dark by killing him? Was his death worth becoming Tom Riddle's dark daughter?

"Don't do it, Nessie," Draco said softly. "You're better than he is."

"Yeah, he's not worth it, the slimy turd," Harry added. "He'll get his in the end. Your grandmother will make sure of that."

Torn, Nesmay glanced away, fixing her gaze upon the prince once more, who was slumped against the wall, all the defiance and arrogance gone from him. He met her gaze and she saw then that he was afraid of her. She smiled scornfully. "Coward! Will you beg me for your life then?"

Jarillion spat at her. "Never, you little bitch! Kill me if you wish, but know this. I was not the only one involved in this. There were members of your own precious Court who convinced me to steal you away, that it was the only way I could have you. Kill me and you shall never know who they were. They shall go free, traitors in your golden court."

"What? You weren't the only one?"

"No, princess. Where do you think I came by the information as to your whereabouts? I was told, by one who knew certain details about Captain Valinek leaving for the mortal realm, that same one also knew you were a ward of Wizard Snape, and a few things about the places in the mortal realm where wizards frequented. Without that, it would have taken me much longer to find you and capture you." Jarillion laughed mockingly. "You were betrayed by one of your own, Nesmayallindra. But kill me, and you shall never know the traitor's identity."

Nesmay's free hand clenched into a fist. "Damn you! Damn you to hell!" The ball of magic flickered, flared violently, then she closed her hand and it went out. "Fine! You'll live . . .for now. But only until the Courts decide your fate and you name the traitor. After that, I pray they make you suffer just the way you did me and my cousins." She flashed him a look that could have incinerated him. "But know this, dark prince. You live only because I chose to be merciful . . .and because I'm _not_ my father. I'm Aislinn Highstar's daughter, and I shall never be your dark queen!"

She cast him a haughty look that rivaled Titania at her most majestic.

An instant later she felt her knees wobble and she would have pitched forward on her face if Harry had not caught her right arm and Draco her left. She leaned on their shoulders, shaking with the realization of how close she had come to dooming herself.

"_Incarcerous!"_ Severus growled, and Jarillion was bound with magical ropes and the collar he had placed upon Nesmay closed over his own neck.

He let out a muffled howl, which they all ignored.

"Severus? I want to go home now," Nesmay said, sounding then like the child she still was.

The Potions Master whispered, "And so you shall, my hedgehog princess. Are you all right?" That question was directed at his sons, who reassured him that they were fine. "We'll let a Healer look at you once we are back at the Summer court," their father stated firmly, knowing full well how his sons hated to admit any weakness. Then he swept Aislinn's daughter into his arms and strode out of the hall, Nesmay cradled closed.

Sarai manhandled Jarillion to his feet and prodded him to start walking at the tip of her sword. "Walk!" she ordered. "And if you try anything, your balls will regret it."

"You wouldn't!"

"You only have to be alive for the Courts to judge you, Jarillion. No one said anything about being whole," Sarai said, giving him a cold smile. "Come along, boys. And mind the blood by the entrance."

Draco and Harry followed close on her heels, with Cafall between them, giving their hands a token lick, their ordeal in the Winter kingdom ended at last.

**Finally got this one up. Hope you all liked it, it was exhausting to write, especially while trying to take care of my mother, who fell twice as I was writing and I had to call 911 to help me pick her up off the floor. Thank fully, she wasn't injured seriously, but does have assorted bruises, she has Parkinsons and cannot really walk well, but insists on trying to do so anyway sometimes without waiting for me to help. So please excuse any mistakes I might have made, as I'm frazzled. And PLEASE REVIEW so i know whether or not you are still interested in what will happen next. Who do you think the traitor is and what should be done with him/her? Should he/she get the same punishment as Jarillion? If you have any idea, please tell me, as I'm having a hard time deciding what to do with him/her. Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me on this adventure.**


	61. The Queens' Judgment

**61**

**The Queens' Judgment**

Jarillion balked when he saw the flying hut hovering at the edge of the castle verge, its chicken feet tucked beneath it. He knew perfectly well who that hut belonged to and had no desire to put himself into the hands of the occupant ever again. "No!" he hissed, stopping dead. "I'm not going in there." They were about halfway down the rubble-strewn path leading to the edge of the flying keep.

Sarai prodded him hard in the small of his back with her sword. "Move, boy! You're under the jurisdiction of the Seelie court now, and if you don't start picking up your feet, my sword is going to remove a very tender portion of your anatomy in about a minute." Her voice was as chill as winter frost. "I've always thought that a child abuser deserves to be emasculated as part of his punishment. If you don't believe me, Jarillion, by all means keep standing here."

Jarillion gulped and began to walk again. He knew better than to challenge the Queen's Blade, she never threatened, and she had a personal tie to the children he had kidnapped, which would not incline her to be merciful towards their captor.

Ahead of them, Severus opened the door of the hut and strode inside, followed by the two boys and Cafall. The door remained open and Baba Yaga appeared in the doorway. "Ah, my runaway apprentice. So nice of you to join the party," she cackled.

Jarillion snarled something uncomplimentary at her in the fae tongue. Then he yelled as Sarai swatted him across the backside with the flat of her sword.

"Show some respect, Jarillion Nightdusk," scolded the Blade. "Prince or no, she is your elder and of royal blood."

Jarillion's eyes flashed an icy disdain. "She is the Queen of Exiles, and I owe her no fealty."

Baba Yaga's face contorted into a sneer. "Do you not, youngling? You broke your apprentice oath to me when you fled in the dead of night with my amulet. Did you really think you could hide from me forever? Now you are my prisoner." She gestured for Sarai to enter the hut with her reluctant captive.

As the Blade shoved Jarillion through the narrow opening, Baba Yaga lifted her hands and chanted a few words in her native tongue. Twin blue streaks shot from her hands and slammed into the gray fortress.

Instantly, the mortar holding the stones together began to turn to sand and crumble. There came a terrible shivering and shaking and then the fortress started to fall apart. In minutes half of it was destroyed.

Jarillion gaped at the ruin of his home and spat, "You half-wit termagant! How dare you destroy my palace?"

Baba Yaga shut the door and the hut took off. She gave the Winter prince a vicious smile. "To the victor go the spoils, nephew. And for once I am the victor here."

"You cannot hold me forever!" blustered the other. "When my mother finds out what you have done . . ."

"She will be out for your blood as much as my sister Titania for breaking the Accords," snorted Baba Yaga. "Do not delude yourself, Jarillion. You may be her favorite, but she doesn't tolerate failures. Especially if they get caught."

Now Jarillion paled as her words sunk in. Sarai indicated he should sit on the floor with his back against the wall. He squeezed in next to the table, the hut felt rather cramped with seven people inside it. He pretended to be aloof and indifferent, but in reality he was shivering inside. Baba Yaga spoke the truth. Maeve had no mercy on those who failed, even her own children.

Severus went and set Nesmay down on the pallet he had recently occupied when he was injured. The girl was white as a ghost and shivering, her teeth chattering like castanets. "Cold . . . Severus, I'm so cold . . ."

"You're burning up, child." The Potions Master murmured, feeling her forehead. Her gold eyes were glassy. He tucked the quilt about her slender frame. Then he cast a quick diagnostic spell upon her. To his dismay, he saw that she had drained her magical reserves down to almost nothing. The fever was a result of spell shock.

He turned to Baba Yaga, who was glaring at the Winter prince as though she wanted to strip the skin from his bones. He utterly understood that impulse. But he had more important things to worry about than getting revenge upon Jarillion at the moment. "My lady, do you happen to have a Magical Restorative cordial about? Nesmay's magical core is dangerously low, she has exhausted herself almost beyond recovery, I fear."

Baba Yaga looked concerned, then went and rummaged in a chest beside the cupboard. She came up with a small vial containing some green liquid. "Here, Severus. This should help until we can get back to the Summer Kingdom."

He took the vial and coaxed Nesmay to swallow it, she was delirious and frightened. She gripped his hand and stared up at him pleadingly. "Don't go . . ."

"I'm here," was all he said, but it calmed her enough to allow her to relax and soon she slipped into a stasis-like sleep. He looked down at her and felt pity and sadness crawl into his throat. She was so young to know such pain and fear, to have borne the dark taint. Her innocence had been lost in that frozen hell, as had his sons'.

He turned abruptly to see how Draco and Harry were faring, and found them sitting on chairs near the table, their arms wrapped about themselves, looking both relieved and stunned, as if they could not believe they had been rescued. He had seen that look before, on those who had been victims of the Death Eaters sadistic games. He walked over to them and hugged them tightly. "You're safe now. It's all right. You're going to be all right."

They clung to him, half-weeping, and for several long moments he held them close. His relief was so vast that he almost succumbed to tears himself. Would have, perhaps, had they not had an audience in the form of Baba Yaga and the Winter prince. But his many years of hiding his emotions in public enabled him to choke back the prickling sensation behind his eyes. Later, he could weep, after justice had been done and they were alone. But for now . . . "I am so very grateful you are alive," he told them sincerely. "Are you injured?"

"No, not really," Draco answered. "Unless you count being made to learn dark curses an injury."

Harry hung his head. "We didn't want to, Dad. But he started hurting Nesmay and we thought if we agreed somewhat to his proposal, it wouldn't be so bad. But now I feel sick and . . .my head hurts . . ."

Gently, Severus lifted his son's chin so he could look into his eyes. "What did he do to you, Harry?"

"He tried . . .to make me hurt you . . ." Harry groaned.

"Mind control," Severus said grimly. He looked at Draco. "You as well."

"Yes." Draco answered shortly. A part of him felt cold inside, as cold as winter, and even the warmth of the fire in the hut could not touch it. Suddenly, his head began to throb too, sending bolts of pain stabbing behind his eyelids. He gasped.

"What's wrong?" demanded his father sharply.

"Headache . . .hurts like hell . . ."

Severus Summoned his pack and took out two vials of Headache Remedy, which he carried in his emergency potions kit. He gave them to his sons, though he sensed the damage that had been done them was much greater than his eyes could see. He could only hope that he could mend it.

"Why don't you two lie down for awhile? We'll wake you when we arrive." He suggested.

"Sounds good," Harry mumbled, and went to lay down on the pallet Sarai had occupied.

Draco took the only other available bed, which was Baba Yaga's, though he did not know it.

Within moments, they were asleep, worn to a thread by the day's events.

"How are they?" asked Sarai, coming up and touching him lightly on the shoulder.

"Sick and hurting from the dark magic," Severus said gravely. He cast Jarillion such a look of hatred that the other flinched and shivered.

"We can cleanse and purify them in the Pools of Replenishment in the palace," Sarai told him. "And the Queen's Healers are the best in this realm at healing wounds caused by using dark magic. They will do all they can to help the boys and Nesmay."

Severus nodded woodenly. He just wanted them better so he could take them back home where they belonged. He glanced up and saw Baba Yaga lean over Jarillion and pull something off of him with a sharp yank.

"_This_, I believe, is _my_ property," she said coldly, holding up a silver teardrop shaped amulet inset with a single large amber cabochon. "No more traveling back and forth to the mortal realm for you, little prince. Not if _I_ have anything to say about it." She carefully hung the amulet around her neck.

"Why would you?" asked Jarillion sullenly.

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps because it shall be me who carries out your sentence, whatever it may be." Baba Yaga smirked. "You might long for death, little prince, but I doubt such mercy shall be granted you."

Jarillion stared up at her, a cold terror griping his vitals. "No . . . anyone but you . . ."

"Coward!" sneered the Potions Master. "You can torment little children but when it comes to facing the consequences for your crimes, you whine and beg for mercy." He walked over and glared down at the prince. "Let me ask you something, Jarillion. How much mercy did you show my sons when you taught them the ways of dark magic? How much kindness did you show Nesmay, you depraved piece of dung? Were it not for the fact that I am bound by an oath I swore to leave you unharmed so the Queens' could administer fae justice, I would show you what I learned as a spy in Voldemort's camp and your own mother would not recognize you when I was through!"

The fury in Severus' eyes burned hotter than magma, and all of them could feel the rage that swept through the tall wizard, it crackled and surged about him like lightning before the onslaught of a storm. Only Snape's iron control kept it leashed and even then it was not without effort.

Jarillion had always sneered at the idea that any mortal sorcerer was as powerful as a High Court fae, mortals were inferior, both as a species and as magic-wielders. Now, however, gazing into the enraged Snape's eyes, he discovered there was nothing inferior about the master wizard's magic, and it chilled him to the marrow of his bones. He almost felt . . . grateful he would not be left to Snape's mercy. Almost.

Sarai came and gently drew Severus away. "Come, Sev. Dwelling on revenge shall only poison you in the end. He will get what is due him, and so will the traitors. Titania will see to that, and even Maeve will make recompense for the wrong done to you."

"Why would she care?"

"It is a point of honor, and even Unseelie have honor still," Sarai replied. She led Snape to the table and fixed him a cup of Baba Yaga's strong tea, then sat next to him. She knew, none better, that after the battle rage had flown, it left you feeling weary to your bones.

Severus looked at her, only then seeing the bloodstained armor. "Sarai, are you injured? All that blood . . ."

"Very little is mine. Most is the frost giant's. When I gave him the death blow, he bled like a stuck pig." She told him. "I have a few small cuts and bruises, nothing you need to worry about."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." She began to remove the bloodstained armor, and Severus assisted her. Beneath her cuirass was a long linen padded shirt and it was stained with blood. She quickly removed it and beneath that was a sleeveless tunic. Her arms were covered with small nicks and one or two longer scratches, but nothing serious.

Still, Severus carefully anointed them with some of his healing salve, his touch deft and gentle. "There. Now you won't die of blood poisoning."

"Thank you, beloved," she murmured, kissing him quickly upon the lips. "Why don't you get some rest too? I shall clean up my armor and then join you."

"Very well." He acquiesced, and then glided across the hut to make himself a bed near his sons with some spare blankets and a pillow he had in his rucksack.

Sarai glanced out of the corner of her eye at Baba Yaga and Jarillion, knowing that the Queen of Exiles would keep an eye on the prince. Sarai removed a bottle of some armor cleaning solution from her pack and set to polishing and cleaning. If anything, it would keep her busy so she was not tempted to beat the Winter fae senseless with her bare hands.

RPMRPMRPM

_The throne room_

_Summer palace, Seelie court:_

Severus Snape and his two sons sat in the first tier of benches nearest the throne, as they were distant kin to the royal family, and also because they were the ones with the chief grievances against Prince Jarillion. All of them were dressed in clean pressed robes fine enough for court, as a matter of fact they were wearing similar clothing to the night of the revel, for it would not do to appear disheveled in court. Nesmay had been whisked off to see the Healers, Titania had been horrified at the condition her granddaughter was in, and vowed that the ones responsible for thiswould pay sevenfold for what they had done to the girl. She had bid her Chief Healer to do his best to bring Nesmay back to full health. After hearing Sarai's and Severus' report, as well as meeting with Baba Yaga, whom she had not seen in over a hundred years, Titania summoned Maeve to her, for she had to know about her reckless son and the Accords that had been broken.

All of that had happened some two hours prior to this moment, and now all three queens were seated upon the dais, Titania on her ivory throne carved with images of Summer, Maeve on her onyx throne carved with images of Winter, and Gloriana on her jade throne, carved with images of her time in the mortal realm. The Queen of Exiles had cast off her mortal Glamour and now appeared as she truly was, fae royalty, but her eyes were hard and bright, eyes that had seen and done much, and endured much pain and sorrow. Maeve had gone frost-pale upon seeing the sister she had wronged so many centuries ago returned to the Summerlands, and realizing that old grievances were about to come due, both hers and her son's.

Off to the right of the dais was a special tier of chairs, in them were seated Titania's children and eldest grandchildren, in order of age. Oberon was first, followed by Morgana, Aubrey, and Balin. Next were Morgana's children and Aubrey's and finally Malchiar. None of them knew why they had been summoned, save for the fact that it concerned an attack upon several family members by a member of the Winter Court.

On the lefthand side were the Summer Council, Titania's advisors and her Ministers of Affairs. They knew only that there had been a grave breach of the Accords and were called to witness the queens' judgment.

Surrounding the queens were the Blades and a few of Maeve's personal guard, Gloriana had a handful of honor guards lent her by Titania, they wore her livery of a tree weeping an amber tear surrounded by three snowflakes, which was something she had created for this occasion, since she did not have a formal court like her sisters.

The fae herald, whose name was Robin Goodfellow, no relation to Shakespeare's Puck of world renown, cleared his throat and spoke in a ringing voice that could be heard all over the hall. "Hear ye! Hear ye! By royal command of Her Majesty, Titania, Summer Queen, you have been summoned to witness the trial of one Prince Jarillion Nightdusk, accused of violating the most sacred and binding Accords between Winter and Summer by Lord Severus Snape, Heir to Prince Manor and Master Wizard and his two sons, Lords Harry Snape and Draco Malfoy, and Lady Nesmayallindra Highstar, who cannot attend due to severe injury, but Captain Sarai Kinsalari Valinek shall speak in her stead." He tapped a long white baton on the floor three times. "All rise."

Everyone rose and bowed to the three monarchs.

"Bring in the accused, Captain!"

The large doors at the far end of the hall swung open, and Sarai, now back in her armor and uniform, marched Jarillion up the long aisle, with Cafall pacing them, and every so often snarling at the prince. Jarillion was still wearing the same clothes he had been during the battle, except now he wore manacles upon his wrists instead of being bound by ropes, and the Collar of Obedience was still around his neck. Jarillion marched up without a hint of humility in his stance, he was all Royal Arrogance and Indignation, haughty and cold.

Sarai brought him almost to the edge of the dais, but then she halted, and Titania extended a hand and a glowing green circle etched itself upon the floor about Jarillion's feet. "This is the Circle of Judgment, which shall not be broken until we have rendered judgment upon thee, Jarillion Nightdusk."

She waved a hand, and Sarai stepped back, Cafall following, to stand next to Severus.

"Prince Jarillion Nightdusk, you stand accused by Lord Severus Snape of abducting his two sons and his ward, my granddaughter Nesmayallindra Highstar, and intending them grievous bodily and spiritual harm. He further states that you intended to make his children into dark mages and to forcibly marry Nesmayallindra, despite the fact that no betrothal agreement was ever contracted between our realms. Such a thing is forbidden by the Accords and has broken the peace between Summer and Winter. What say you to these charges?"

"I say that _Lord_ Snape and his lover, Captain Valinek, did invade my private residence with help from the Witch of the North, my former tutor, with the intent of doing me harm. I say further that his sons were under a binding oath of apprenticeship to me, as was Nesmayallindra. I'll admit I did abduct Nesmay, but bride-stealing is an accepted custom among the Unseelie." Jarillion said smoothly.

Severus stood up. "She is under age, Your Grace!" he growled. "And without a betrothal contract, any attempt by you to make her a bride is kidnapping. Furthermore, what reason do you give for kidnapping my sons? Were you going to marry them as well and start a harem?"

There were titters at Snape's biting sarcasm, but Titania held up a hand and all noise ceased. "You shall answer Lord Severus' question. By what right did you kidnap his sons?"

Jarillion grimaced, then said, thinking fast, "I but sought to provide companionship for my bride, Your Majesty."

Titania frowned sharply. "If, as you say, that was the reason, why did you not come to me and ask formally for her hand? Why would you break the peace by resorting to kidnapping? If your intentions towards my granddaughter were honorable, you should have sought permission from both your mother and me." She turned to Maeve. "Did he come to you then, sister, and request to bind himself to my House?"

Maeve shook her head. "He did not." Ice dripped from her tone and the look she shot her offspring should have flayed him on the spot.

Jarillion cringed. "Your Majesty, I would have told you sooner, but I wished for some time to get acquainted and to let her become accustomed to our ways before I introduced her to the court."

"I see. And was that why you were hiding in the Waste in your flying keep, beneath a time shift?" Maeve asked, each word edged in frost. "You know the penalty for breaking the Accords, my son, I taught you that myself. She is not of age, therefore formal consent of a betrothal is required from your aunt and myself! Were you so hot for her that your wits turned to sludge? Fool!"

Jarillion flinched as though she had struck him. Then he rallied. "But . . . Your Majesties . . .I _did_ seek out a family member to request permission to court Nesmayallindra. And our meeting was witnessed as well."

"Oh?" Titania looked livid. "Might I ask who dared to usurp my authority and consent to your . . .proposal?"

Jarillion looked uneasy, then all at once, he smiled, a sharp toothy grin. "It is not meet that I reveal my contact to you, however, since I cannot refuse a direct request, my queen . . .I approached your heir apparent, Prince Oberon, and requested an audience. However, Prince Oberon was not available to see me then, so he sent his heir, Prince Malchiar in his stead, giving the prince the authority to treat with me. It was witnessed by the Minister of the Interior, Lord Morhavan." He pointed to a tall Seelie lord wearing gold and green silks, who had gone gray at the Winter prince's words.

For one endless moment, there was dead silence in the hall.

No one moved. No one even breathed.

There came a soft rumbling in the air, as of thunder about to break, and then everyone present felt the unmistakable lash of the Summer Queen's wrath. Titania's eyes flashed electric green and she cried softly, "Guards! Seize Lord Morhavan, Prince Malchiar and . . .Prince Oberon."

The Blades moved them, swifter than thought.

"Your Majesty!" cried the Seelie lord. "I crave pardon! I did not know that your permission had not been sought."

The guards placed magical manacles on all of them and hauled them up to the dais, and within seconds they were all standing in Circles of Judgment.

Lord Morhavan looked like he was about to pass out, Malchiar looked pale and stunned, only Oberon retained his haughty demeanor.

"Mother, this is ridiculous. You cannot arrest me, I'm your heir, by the Mother's Eyes!"

"Oberon, be silent until spoken to!" snapped the queen. "If you were indeed involved in this sordid wretched affair, you have much to answer for! Heir or no, you are not exempt from the queens' justice." She turned back to Jarillion. "So . . . after you were granted permission to court Nesmay, how did you find her, for she was no longer at her residence of Graystone manor or indeed in this realm."

"Queen Titania, I was told she was made a ward of Lord Snape and was at his residence of Prince Manor by Prince Malchiar. He informed me that you had grown tired of the brat's uncontrolled wild mortal magic and cast her from your court. He further told me that the wards on Prince Manor would not permit an Unseelie to pass them. I then asked how I could gain access to the mortal world, and he asked his father, who told him about the mortal sorcerers' bazaar, called Diagon Alley. Using a portal, I traveled to the mortal realm and awaited my betrothed there. It was not long before she made her presence known, having caused a shop to explode with her unpredictable magic. I simply waited for the right time to find her."

Harry stood up, along with Draco.

Titania looked at them. "You wish to refute that statement?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. Prince Jarillion ambushed us. He was waiting for us down the mouth of an alley, and not just to talk to Nesmay like he says. He just wanted to kidnap her, and when she told him to let her go, he . . .he put that collar thing around her neck and when we—my brother and I—tried to stop him, he knocked us out and took us with him to his fortress. He knew who I was, who Draco was, I had the Prince Manor amulet on, he broke it though and left it lying in the dirt there, so I couldn't be traced by it." Harry took the amulet out from under his shirt and showed it to the queen. "He didn't have Nesmay's interests at heart when he stole her, he only considered himself. If he did truly care about her, he would have never put that collar on her. He didn't want a wife, Your Majesty, he wanted a slave."

"You lie!" Jarillion snarled.

"By my magic and my Name, I swear it's true!" Harry said firmly.

A collective gasp went around the hall. An eager groom could perhaps be forgiven his excesses, but what Harry had sworn to implied a terrible dishonor to the royal house of Summer. And since nothing had happened when Harry had made the oath on his magic, that meant he had spoken the plain unvarnished truth.

"It would seem not, young Jarillion," cackled Gloriana. "You were an untrustworthy apprentice to me, I see no reason why you should change now. Young Snape, do tell us more of Jarillion's _hosipitality_."

Harry did, revealing all of the Winter prince's cruelties, seconded by Draco, and then further seconded by Sarai, who had spoken to Nesmay when she had woken briefly from her fever induced sleep. Sarai told the court of how Jarillion had forced her obedience using the collar and had also tried to make her into his dark queen by making her use dark magic.

Draco revealed how he had tried to help all of them by only agreeing to so much of Jarillion's dark purpose, and the struggle they had to maintain their sense of self and their own free will. "I know using the dark magic tainted us, it can't be helped, but the fact that we weren't really willing to learn . . . well, I hope it means that we can be free of it someday."

"He used mind control on us too," Harry added. "I fought it off, but . . .I think he hurt me really bad when I did it. I have headaches all the time now."

Titania cast them a look of compassion. "After this ordeal is over, children, I shall see what may be done to heal you. No child should be subject to forbidden spells of command or forced to dabble in dark magic."

"But what if they were not, sister?" came Maeve's cool voice. "It is known that the blond boy was taught some of the dark ways by his sire. Once you drink from the dark cup . . ."

"You are forever enslaved?" Titania finished. "Not so, Maeve. You know as well as I that a true dark disciple need not be forced into learning, it is the path they chose. These children were corrupted by your son, an abomination even for your kind. Moreover, he dared to lay hands upon a child of the royal house, and to collar her like a beast! That shall not be tolerated."

Maeve sighed. "It is so, sister. A debt is owed. My son shall pay it, for he knew better."

"Mother, what are you saying?" cried the prince.

The Winter Queen cast her son a cold look, her masses of dark hair falling over her pearl gray sparkling dress like a cloak. She was beautiful, the way frost on glass was beautiful, or a cool winter's day, when snow glistened upon the edges of the trees. Beautiful and hard as a chilling frost. "I am saying, Jarillion, that you have brought shame upon our House. You acted like a bloody idiot, treating a highborn daughter the way you did and then abducting her relatives as well. You would have done better to go down fighting Lord Snape than surrender and bring more shame upon us. Once, I would have overlooked your transgressions, put them down to hot blooded youth, but this . . . you have gone too far. Now you are beyond the pale and as such, judgment shall be pronounced as it would for any criminal in my realm."

"_Criminal_! I am your _son_!" shouted Jarillion, desperation in his tone.

"You mean you _were_ my son," Maeve declared coldly. Then she gave him a dismissive glance, as she might have a dog that had urinated in the hall.

Jarillion gaped at her, disbelieving. Then he snarled, "You coldhearted bitch! You've done worse in your time . . ._Mother_!"

Maeve snorted. "Perhaps. But **I** never broke the laws of this realm, and therein lies all the difference."

"You've tortured the children of mortals!" spat her son.

"True, but that is different. I never kidnapped a Seelie royal daughter and subjugated her with a collar, nor did I presume to steal away two young scions of the Prince line and attempt to convert them to darkness. _I_ played my games with mere mortal riffraff, _never_ my own kind . . . unless they were my subjects and due chastisement. You have no one to blame but yourself, Jarillion."

Titania's eyes were as hard as the desert and implacable as stone. "Having heard all of the testimony and seen the results of your handiwork with my own two eyes, I pronounce you, Jarillion, formally Nightdusk, of the Unseelie realm, guilty on all counts. What say you, sisters? Guilty or not?"

"Guilty," came Gloriana's response.

"Guilty," answered Maeve, not looking at her son.

"Heard and witnessed!" intoned the council. All of them glared at Jarillion with varying degrees of disgust and revulsion, for to harm a child in such a way was one of the most forbidden things among the Seelie court.

There was a long moment of silence, pregnant with possibilities, where no one spoke and the three queens seemed to be doing nothing except looking into each other's eyes. Harry was puzzled, until he recalled that all of the fae queens could probably mindspeak one another.

After a few minutes, which seemed to go on forever, all three queens rose and eyed the accused. Titania spoke first. "It is the judgment of all the Courts, Winter, Summer, and the Exiled, that you, Jarillion, formerly of the House of Nightdusk, be stripped of all your inheritances and titles, as your Head of House declares you unfit to hold them. Furthermore, as you attempted to enslave another fae, so shall you be enslaved and controlled with the instrument you used upon her. Also, your magic shall be stripped from you, and all spells save for the most basic be lost to you forever."

"No!" Jarillion yelled, horror struck. "You cannot take my magic from me! I'll die! A fae cannot live without magic."

"Oh, they can." Maeve purred. "It's just a horrible life."

"And you would sentence me to that?"

"It is just."

Jarillion looked as though he wanted to spit at her. "For how long must I be a slave, Your Majesties?"

"That is up to your new mistress," answered Titania. "As per our agreement, I shall give the carrying out of the sentence to Queen Gloriana, who also has a score to settle with you over thievery."

"You would give me to her? She is not fit to command a dungbeetle, much less a prince of the Unseelie!"

"_Former_ prince," corrected Gloriana. "And it's well that I am not, as you say, fit to command a dungbeetle, for you are less than dung, Jarillion! As for how long you shall be my slave, let us say that depends upon whether or not you learn your lesson. I may let you off for a day for good behavior . . .in about three hundred years." She grinned wickedly. "You shall be my faithful servant, and learn things your mother never thought to teach you—such as humility and gratefulness and hard work, among other things. Perhaps, after some centuries, you may even learn compassion for those so-called inferior mortals you despise."

"Never!"

"Never is quite a long time, boy. And I assure you, I will make you feel every minute of it, should you choose to defy me." Gloriana warned.

"Why not just kill me then?" taunted the other.

"Because death is not a punishment and dead you learn nothing," answered the Queen of Exiles. "This way, you have a very long time to reflect and learn the error of your ways . . . if you can." Then she gestured and the manacles fell off of the former prince's hands.

All three queens pointed a hand at the condemned and bolts of searing energy shot out of their hands. They struck Jarillion with jarring force, knocking him down and draining away all of his magic save basic fae spellcraft. The Unseelie screamed in agony as his magic was torn from him, leaving him gasping and twitching on the floor.

Harry flinched at the terrible screams and wanted to cover his ears. As much as he hated Jarillion for what he had done, he did not like to see him suffer. He looked at Draco, expecting his brother to be gloating over the prince's fall, but saw that Draco was also pale and sickly looking. Severus and Sarai, however, remained stone faced. Harry wasn't sure whether that was because they had seen such things before or because they thought Jarillion deserved to suffer as he had made others suffer.

Finally it was over.

"We have spoken. It is done," the three chanted. Then they lowered their hands.

Jarillion remained huddled upon the floor, shuddering.

But the three queens were not yet finished dispensing justice. Now they turned to the three Summer fae responsible for giving Nesmay into the hands of her enemy. Titania turned her eagle-eyed gaze upon her traitorous son, grandson, and Minister.

All of them squirmed like mice beneath the stare of a hungry cat.

"Lord Morhavan," she said, her voice deceptively calm, yet with steel beneath the surface. "What possessed you to witness a conversation lacking the royal presence? Especially on such a matter as a betrothal of my kin? You have served on my Council for over two hundred years. Such a mistake should not be made by one as seasoned as you."

"I . . .I know that, Your Majesty. Forgive me, but I trusted Lord Oberon, I did not know he had not your permission to do this."

"That may be, but why did you not mention it to me afterwards? You are normally the first to point out irregularities in procedure in the council."

Lord Morhavan bowed his head. "Because Lord Oberon swore me to silence."

"When? Before or after Jarillion was told to take Nesmay?"

"After."

"Fool." Titania walked down the stairs and struck her Minister across the face.

No sooner had she touched him than he began to shrink, becoming a small donkey in the blink of an eye. "An ass you were to agree to such terms, when you knew such was not protocol, an ass you shall stay for a year and a day, Lord Morhavan."

Then she whirled upon her son and grandson. "Well? And what have you to say for yourself, Malchiar Highstar? You know perfectly well that your cousin is under age and as such, permission from her guardian is always sought first before allowing anyone, but especially a Winter royal, to court a maiden. You knew further that Nesmayallindra did not care for Jarillion, she had made that quite clear on a number of occasions, so why then did you take it into your head to try and arrange a betrothal behind my back?"

Malchiar looked like he was about to wet himself. "P-please, Your Majesty, I thought, that is Father always said she needed a firm hand and that Prince Jarillion . . . I mean the exile . . . was the one to handle her. He said that was why you had sent her away, that she was ungovernable, and her magic too wild to be controlled any other way . . . She belonged with them, Grandmother. She has the blood of an evil sorcerer in her veins, so why shouldn't she go and live with the Unseelie?"

"Why? Because she is _my_ granddaughter, young one! Blood of my blood, and no one has any say in what becomes of her save _me_. You have overstepped your bounds, boy, in assuming you have authority while I am still living! Your father is not king yet, Malchiar, and you are cruel beyond words to condemn your cousin to a fate with one whom you know would never treat her with respect or decency."

"She doesn't deserve either! She's a half-breed that belongs with mortals, she's a blot on this family and we're well rid of her." Malchiar replied, allowing his jealousy and temper to get the better of him.

Titania looked at him, almost speechless with rage. "So. It has come to this. I am betrayed by my own kin. As speaks the son, so speaks the father. Oberon, how could you do such a thing to your sister's child?"

Oberon drew himself up. "My sister's child? Ha! She is no more a Highstar than a mongrel is a purebred. You tried your best to make us accept her, Mother, but she shall never be one of us. Not ever will I call that kin of a dark wizard, that daughter of rape, my flesh and blood. She is anathema, abomination. You should have smothered her in the cradle, or given her as a changeling to some mortal. Not allowed her to be raised as part of our family."

"Sun, Moon, and Stars, Oberon! She is a child, and not to be held responsible for the crimes her father committed against us!"

"She is his spawn, Mother! A bad seed! I loved my sister very much, and that wicked brat caused her death. How could you expect me to love her? She has her father's temper and his dark magic, she would have destroyed us all if she had stayed. She was uncontrollable. I did you a favor, Mother, by letting Jarillion have her."

"A favor?" growled Severus, unable to keep silent any longer. Sarai kicked him in the ankle, but he ignored her. "Is that what you call giving a little girl into the hands of a depraved predator like Jarillion? Where I come from, we have a name for people like you, Oberon, and we send them to prison for life for doing what you did to Nesmay. You are as bad as Jarillion, worse even, for you believe you did nothing wrong. Someone ought to nail you to a wall and chop off your bloody balls!" He left no doubt as to who that someone should be.

"Severus, enough!" hissed Sarai. "Let Titania handle it!"

The Summer queen turned to face the irate Potions Master. "Peace, Lord Snape. The traitors shall be dealt with."

"Traitor! Mother, I am no traitor!" protested Oberon.

"Me either, Grandmother," added Malchiar.

"Are you not? Did you or did you not authorize a betrothal without my consent? Did you or did you not go behind my back and arrange a secret meeting with a Winter royal for the express purpose of harming your own family member, and not as was the purpose of such alliances in the past, to promote peace between us? Both of you knew that Jarillion had not anything good in mind when he offered for Nesmayallindra. As her elders, it was your duty to protect her and keep her safe, not throw her to the darkhounds and pat yourselves on the back! You have betrayed not only the crown, but your family as well by handing Nesmayallindra over to Jarillion. You also indirectly put two other children, your cousins, at risk as well. What have you to say about that?"

"It was never our intention that anyone else be involved—" began Oberon.

"How did we know they'd be dumb enough to follow the stupid brat?" chimed in Malchiar.

"Can I hit him, Dad?" asked Harry, his fists clenched.

Severus reached out and grabbed his son's shoulder. "Harry, let the queen handle it."

Harry scowled and kicked at the floor. He so wanted to smash Malchiar's conceited face in. The Summer prince was worse than Draco, and that was saying something.

Titania's eyebrow rose. "So . . . it is _their_ fault that they were kidnapped trying to protect their cousin now, is it? A cousin, might I remind you, that they had only met recently, and yet they felt more loyalty towards her than the both of you, who watched her grow up. That my own blood could do such a thing to a child—no matter who sired her—I am appalled and ashamed beyond expressing. A child is sacred, be she mortal, fae, or half-blood, no matter if she is royal or common. You were taught that before you could walk, Oberon! And you as well, Malchiar! What do you think Aislinn would do to you if she were here right now, Oberon? Would she applaud your decision to rid our House of the taint you say her child put on it? Or would she be ready to flay the skin off your back for being a bigoted heartless bastard?"

Oberon flinched at the queen's censure. "She's not Aislinn, Mother. And she never will be."

"Then you do not regret what you did?"

Her son drew himself up, he was a head taller than she, and looked her in the eye. "Why would I regret getting rid of grit in my boot? Someday, Mother, you'll thank me."

Sarai grabbed Severus before he could hex Oberon. "Harry, get his wand!"

"Dad!" Harry said, grabbing his father's wrist instead. "Remember what you told me?"

"Yes," gritted the Potions Master. "But I still want to take him apart."

Titania struck both her son and grandson across the face. "You are no longer kin of mine! I strip you off all your inheritances and titles, all of your gold and your residences. You are not fit to call yourself Highstar, nameless you shall be, and kin-wrecked you are. I cast you out, from my heart and my home—"

"Mother, don't!" her son called.

Titania continued, ruthlessly. "—exiled from the Summer kingdom, forbidden ever to cross the threshold of my realm. Go now and dwell among the broken and lost, the dregs of the mortal realm. The fae realm is now closed to you. You shall forget you ever were mine, and know only that you have lost something precious, never to be regained, through your own cruelty." She reached out her hand then, and touched both father and son on the forehead. They shivered and cried out. When she removed her hand, they looked at her blankly. "Go then, strangers, back to the mortal realm. From now on, your fate is in your own hands. Make of it what you will." She clapped her hands and a small gnome appeared. "Give them food, water, and clothing for a week, as is customary. Then escort them to the borders of the kingdom and send them through the Portal."

"Wait!" Maeve said. "There is one more thing I believe they deserve." She quickly gestured and said, "Thy magic is bound, live thou like a mortal till your life's end." A bolt of ice struck both men and locked their magic away. "Thus is the judgment of the Courts."

The gnome beckoned. "This way, sirs." He led the dazed fae away.

Titania drew herself up and faced Severus. "Severus Snape, has your honor been satisfied? Has justice been served?"

Severus bowed. "It has, Your Majesties."

"Then this court is adjourned. Go in peace."

Everyone bowed and then started to depart, stunned by the unexpected turn of events. Most of Titania's family looked shellshocked. It was the worst punishment ever handed down to a royal in thousands of years.

Gloriana snapped a leash upon Jarillion's collar and half-dragged him from the hall.

Maeve grimaced and said, "I shall take my leave of you now, sister. 'Till next December."

Titania gave her a brief kiss of peace, then nodded regally.

Maeve vanished in a puff of violet smoke, leaving Titania to tend to the wounds of her now shattered family.

The Summer queen turned and looked at Harry and Draco. "Children, come. I shall have my Healers examine you and allow you to soak in the Pool of Restoration. It is the least I can do to make amends."

**Please excuse any glaring errors you find in this, as I was getting continually interrupted . . . by phone calls wishing me a happy birthday. **

**Thanks to everyone who has read and supported this story, i hope you'll continue to do so.**

**Next will be some healing for all three children and I should be posting a new chapter of Common Interests in a few days for those of you reading that. **


	62. The Healing of Harms

**62**

**The Healing of Harms**

_*the title of this chapter I borrowed from C.S. Lewis' masterpiece the Chronicles of Narnia, I believe this chapter title was used in The Silver Chair or perhaps The Horse and His Boy.*_

Draco, Harry, Severus, and Sarai all followed the monarch of the Seelie out of the throne room and through a long twisty passage down to the Pool of Restoration. The walls of the passage were made of a soft golden stone, that had small chips of a glittery dust that twinkled faintly when the light from the glow globes struck it. Titania and the Snape family were surrounded by the Queen's Blades, marching both before and behind them, wary and on alert since the betrayal of Oberon and Malchiar had been revealed.

Sarai also watched out of the corner of her eye, though she was reasonably sure that none would dare attack Titania after seeing how she had dealt with her own kin in regards to their collaboration with Jarillion. Still, better safe than sorry. She looked at Harry, who looked pale and wan. The Captain hoped that the two boys would benefit from a session or two in the magical waters and some healing magic from Titania's personal physicians. Clearly, the dark magic had taken its toll on both youngsters.

Abruptly, Draco turned to her and asked, in barely a whisper, "Sarai, will the pool remove the dark taint from us?"

Slowly, she nodded. "Yes, the magical waters are made for cleansing you of any ailment, physical or magical, they restore and refresh your magical core, and should neutralize the effects of the dark spells. Your father knows well the value of the pool, he has used it before when he came here for the revel."

"You and Harry will feel much better after a long soak," Severus confirmed, gently shepherding Harry along with a hand upon his shoulder. "How's the headache, Harry?"

"Not that great," his son answered honestly. It felt like a goblin was bowling strikes behind his eyeballs. The constant throbbing pressure was making him queasy as well. He felt terribly exhausted, worn to a sliver, as if he had been playing multiple Quidditch matches back to back without rest, or enduring one of Sarai's grueling practice bouts for two days straight.

Soon they came to a large set of square double doors with the rune for water in the fae language upon them. One of the guards set his hand to the door and it swung open, he then led the way through it. Beyond the door was a huge cavern of limestone, smoothed by magic, and in the center of the room were two large hot springs. Steam rose from the water, making the air moist and warm.

To either side of the great doors were various alcoves with cushioned benches and cubbies in them, and two larger curtained partitions with shelves full of towels and cabinets of lotions, unguents, and salves for the skin, hair, face, and feet. It was almost like a spa. Multicolored lights illuminated the ceiling and each of the pools. There was a strange scent in the air, a mix of fruit, flowers, and an odd metallic odor. It was not unpleasant, merely odd, and both boys wrinkled their noses at it.

Three tall Seelie wearing shimmery silver robes, one female with long reddish hair and sapphire eyes, and two males, one dark and one with platinum hair that reminded Harry a bit of Lucius, came over to greet the royal entourage. They all bowed and said, "Your Majesty, a messenger informed us you were coming here with guests, how may we serve you?"

Titania made a beckoning motion for them to straighten, then said softly, "Healers Auriane, Morrowindl, and Kellin, may I present Lord Severus Snape, the Heir to Prince Manor, and his sons, Draco and Harry. These are the children who were stolen by Jarillion of the Unseelie and held prisoner in his fortress for many weeks along with my granddaughter. While they were there, he forced them to use dark magic, an unspeakable atrocity. I wish you to examine them and Sarai here, and make certain they are cleansed of the dark taint and their magic replenished. Also, the boys complain of headaches and say they were victims of a compulsion, please see if there are traces still lingering and erase them."

"It shall be done, my queen," said Healer Auriane. She looked the guests up and down, a smile lighting her face, which was ageless like all the fae, she could have been twenty or forty or even centuries older. "Welcome to the Grotto of Renewal, or as some call it, the Hidden Grotto. Please step forward and accept our welcome cup." As she spoke, a plain silver goblet appeared in her hands as well as her colleague's.

Harry approached her hesitantly, his green eyes uncertain. He took the cup she handed him, then asked, "This isn't . . . wine or summerdew, is it? Because I'm not allowed to drink alcohol."

Auriane chuckled. "No, youngling. Such drinks are for feasts and not for children. This cup contains water from the spring that runs through this grotto. Drink and be refreshed."

Harry put the cup to his lips and swallowed, noticing out of the corner of his eye Draco and Severus doing the same, and probably Sarai also, though he couldn't see her. The water hit his tongue like a cool draft of lemonade on a hot summer afternoon, quenching his suddenly dry throat and sliding down it. As soon as it hit his stomach he felt the queasiness vanish as if he'd drunk one of Snape's Stomach Soothers. The feeling of soothing warmth spread throughout his body and all the nagging aches and cramps in his legs and back faded away. He felt wonderfully alive and his hands and fingers tingled slightly as a rush of energy flowed through his veins.

He looked over at his brother and father and saw that they too looked refreshed and their skin had taken on a healthy glow. Some of the worry lines had smoothed out on Severus' forehead and Draco's hair seemed to have grown brighter, taking on an otherworldly hue.

"I feel great!" Draco cried, astonished.

"I am much less tired now than I was." Snape admitted.

"Me too," Harry said excitedly.

Auriane nodded. "A draught of the spring water can renew your energy somewhat and banish fatigue and minor aches and pains. But now I would ask you to hold this crystal in your hands," she withdrew a large clear crystal from a pouch, it was the size of an ostrich egg and handed it to Harry. "This is a drawing crystal, when I speak a command word, it shall draw all of the residue of dark magic from you. As it does so, it will become darker in hue. You may experience a pulling sensation but it will not hurt."

She tapped the crystal and spoke a word in the fae tongue.

Harry felt the crystal warm beneath his hands. It began to glow softly, then he felt an odd sensation, as of something tugging at him from deep inside. He saw strands of a dark pulsing energy begin to swirl inside the crystal, faster and faster. The crystal began to become a smoky grayish violet. Ten minutes later it was dark as onyx, and felt icy to the touch. It hadn't hurt, but it did make him feel strangely hollow, like a pumpkin with the insides scooped out.

"Is it supposed to look like that?" Harry asked.

"Yes, child. It has done its job well." She had Harry drop the crystal into a velvet drawstring pouch. Then she chanted a word and the bag lit up with green fire and disintegrated. "So no one can use the dark magic gathered therein for any purpose. How do you feel, Harry?"

Harry considered. "Sort of strange. Like there's something missing inside of me. But it's not really uncomfortable."

"What you feel is the absence of dark magic," she said quietly. "Stand still, please. I need to lay my hands upon you to see if you need healing anywhere else." Her hands, which were long-fingered and pale and cool, closed over his own.

She closed her eyes and concentrated, and Harry felt a feeling of peace flow through him. It was followed by a gentle pulse of healing magic which traveled up to his head and made his headache lessen. After a few moments she removed her hands and said, "I have mended as much as I can for now. You may soak in the Pool of Restoration for twenty minutes. The waters will cleanse and renew you in both body and spirit, young Prince."

She gestured to the steaming pool.

"Actually, it's Snape," corrected the young scion. "My family name is Snape, like my dad." He eyed the pool consideringly. "Just how hot is that? Looks like I could bake in it."

Auriane smiled. "You could, if that is how hot you want it. The temperature of the pool adjusts to suit your wishes, Harry Snape. Go on then, get in."

Harry blushed hotly as he realized she expected him to just strip naked in front of her and even Titania, who was standing off to one side conversing with Sarai. "Err . . . Healer . . . I don't . . .umm . . .but it's not the . . . err . . .custom with my people to bathe with women . . .I-I mean . . ."

Kellin gave a quiet laugh. "Mortals! You haven't anything Healer Brightwing hasn't seen before, silly boy! And you're a bit young to catch her interest in any other way."

Harry was getting redder and redder by the moment.

To his surprise, Auriane did not laugh at him, but instead frowned at her fellow Healer. "Hush, Kellin! Young mortals are often shy. Will this help?" She gestured and a sort of floating screen appeared around half the pool.

"Th-thank you!" stuttered Harry gratefully. And he ran behind the screen to undress.

Draco, who had been examined by Morrowindl, soon joined him.

They stepped into the pool together, finding that there were stairs of a sort formed naturally out of the rock. Harry was prepared to be shocked by the heat, but found that instead of boiling, the temperature was pleasantly warm, just like a hot tub would have been. Harry swam out to the center of the pool and allowed himself to relax and float in the water, which smelled of cinnamon and mint.

"Ah, this feels so good!" Draco said, basking happily in the warm water. "I can feel all my muscles just unwind. Know what I mean?"

"Uh-huh," Harry murmured. He looked to see if Severus was in the pool also, but saw him still standing next to the pool, speaking quietly to the Healers. "I wonder how Nesmay's doing?"

"Hopefully she got to go in here like us," Draco said. He floated on his back. "I could live in here, Harry. It's so brilliant!"

Harry splashed and swam in the water, it made him feel all tingly and energized, as if he had swallowed a Vigor Elixir. It had healed the welts left by Jarillion's belt so thoroughly that no trace remained, and he could feel it slowly penetrating the hollow place left within him, filling it with light and peace and pure golden magic.

He dove under the water and swam to the bottom of the pool, it was only about ten feet deep, then he popped up behind the lazing Draco and flipped his brother over.

Draco yelled and floundered for a moment before getting his bearings. "Harry, you wretch! You're going to pay for that one!"

He chased Harry about the pool.

The adults watched the two boys frolic with tolerant and half-amused expressions on their faces. Severus thought it was good to see them playing again, like the teenagers they were. It gave him hope that they would make a full recovery. Until Healer Auriane said gravely, "My lord Snape, I have some . . . unsettling news to tell you. When I examined your son for any kind of dark influences, I noticed that there were . . .wounds upon his psyche. Raw wounds of the sort that can only be made when a mind has fought a powerful compulsion. Your son is very strong willed and resistant to such magics, as is any fae, but even we can be broken. What that blackguard Jarillion—may bloodworms gnaw his bowels—did in trying to subjugate him is like a kind of rape. But a rape of the mind. Harry is badly wounded, his inner psyche torn and shredded, that is why he has complained of such crippling headaches. When he tore himself free of the compulsion, he damaged his mind, it was akin to a trapped animal gnawing its foot off to escape."

Severus stared at her, dismay and a cold fear sweeping through him. "Can you mend it, Healer? I was told that you were the best in realm at healing those marked by the darkness."

"I noticed something similar when I examined your other son, Draco," added Healer Morrowindl. "But the damage to him was not as extensive as what Auriane described."

"Such damage done to ones so young . . . it will require a long time to mend . . . and I cannot guarantee there will not be some scarring upon their minds." Auriane said honestly.

"Do the best you can, Healer. That's all that I ask." Severus said quietly. "If only I had been quicker . . ." he shut his eyes, shaking his head, awash in guilt and regret and shame.

He felt a gentle touch upon his sleeve and turned.

Titania was looking at him knowingly. "And if only I had seen how my own son allowed his hatred and bitterness to consume him, none of this would have occurred. Do not blame yourself, Lord Snape. Most of the blame lies with me, for being too indulgent as a parent. But he was my firstborn and . . . I fear I spoiled him. I knew he harbored an unkind prejudice against Aislinn's daughter, but I thought with time he would grow to accept the girl and to love her as the last living link to his sister. I should have known better. He is much like his father, rigid and unbending and believes that his way is the only way." She smiled, a sad bitter smile. "But that is finished now. You have my deepest regrets that such harm came to your children due to my kin's foolish actions. I would like to see what I may do to alleviate their pain. As matriarch of the fae I possess certain skills in the mind arts. If I may, I can suppress some of their worst memories of their time in the dark prince's fortress, which may help the healing process. Fear not, Severus Snape, what was broken shall be made whole."

"I . . .thank you, Majesty," Severus said, knowing just how hard it had been for the proud monarch to admit to him her shortcomings. "How is Nesmay doing?"

"She too has been mangled by that beast's manipulation and will require time to heal as well. She was tainted by the dark, though not as badly as she feared. But it is her guilt and fear that prevent her from healing as she ought. She sleeps now, but even in sleep she fights the healing potions and runes. She believes she is unworthy of being saved. I fear for her, Severus. If she were fully fae, and her spirit so filled with harm, she might well cause herself to die. We have been known to die of grief or guilt before."

Severus' eyebrows rose. "But Nesmay isn't a full fae. She's half-human."

"And you humans stubbornly cling to life despite the odds." Titania said. "She gets her willfulness from her father. Although, her mother was no shrinking violet."

"I would not think any daughter of yours could be that," Severus remarked.

"Aislinn would have cherished her daughter, had she lived. But the birth was terribly difficult, Nesmayallindra was bigger than a fae infant, and turned about the wrong way. It took all of my daughter's strength both physically and magically to bring her into the world, and once it was done she had nothing left to sustain herself. She died soon after blessing the baby. I have lost enough children in my lifetime. I do not wish to lose another," the fae queen said passionately, sounding much like any other parent would faced with a terribly injured child.

"Your Majesty, if I may make a suggestion?" Sarai asked.

Titania turned to her. "You may, old friend."

"Perhaps it would do her good to talk to Severus, Harry, and Draco when she wakes up? She has become very close to them during these past few weeks, it may help her better than any healing rune or potion."

Titania considered. "Yes, Sarai, you are right. The child might quit blaming herself if someone besides her grandmother tells her to. A cousin's word sometimes carries more weight. I shall inform you when she next awakens so you may visit her. Right now she is asleep, or so Healer Andrean assured me before I sat in judgment."

Soon the twenty minutes was up, and Healers Morrowindl and Kellin came over to the pool and called to Harry and Draco to come out. They held robes woven of spider silk for the boys to wear, Harry's was a deep green and Draco's sky blue.

Draco whistled in appreciation after drying off with a very soft bath sheet. "Merlin! This robe is first rate, better even than the one I used to have at Malfoy Manor. It's almost like wearing nothing at all, it's that comfortable. What's it made from?" He examined the silken robe with interest.

"It's made from the spun silk of the _mirkelian _(_pronounced meer-KELL-ee-anne)_," answered Kellin. "The giant spiders that dwell in the caves of the Deep Wood. The queen has a pact with them, they give us their silk in exchange for a monthly gift of sasara leaves, which increases their lifespan and silk production."

Draco's eyes grew wide. "Giant spiders? You mean acromantulas?"

"No, youngling. Acromantulas are meat eaters, and dangerous to mortal and fae alike. The _mirkelian_ are eaters of fruits and plants and are non-aggressive, unless threatened. We of the Seelie court have been harvesting their silk for our clothing for time out of mind. It is light, airy, and unconfining, though my wife tells me the fabric tends to be difficult to sew. But once sewn, it is also difficult to damage, unless you happen to get cut open by a sword or arrow and it's resistant to stains."

"I wish I had a whole wardrobe of this stuff," said Draco longingly.

"There is only one problem, young Draco," Kellin smirked. "It's not made to stand up to a mortal winter."

"Oh. But it's great for the summer." Draco said.

"I am sure the queen will not mind parting with some clothing, seeing as you saved her granddaughter from that slinking coward Jarillion," said Morrowindl, practically spitting as he spoke the Winter prince's name. "Come, boys. The queen wishes to do some Mind Healing upon you, as she is strongest in that area."

Harry halted, frowning. "But, sir . . . I thought the water was going to cure us. My headache's almost gone."

"But not all the way gone, is it?" Morrowindl questioned gently. "Your mind, young Snape, was badly damaged by your struggle with Jarillion. It is often so with compulsion spells, especially when used upon children, which is abomination. Her Majesty wishes to try and alleviate some of the pain by helping banish some of your worst memories of your time with Jarillion."

"Like a Memory Charm?" Harry was puzzled. "I thought the fae didn't believe in them. Smidgen told me so."

"You are correct. The queen will not remove your memories, just . . . make them inaccessible to your conscious and dreaming mind. So your mind can heal without being reminded every night and day how it was torn asunder."

"Oh. I think I understand." Harry said. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of Titania being able to see his thoughts, but then again, he didn't want to live through crippling flashbacks and anxiety attacks again, the way he had last summer.

So he followed the Healer over to where the queen waited for them, seated upon a cushioned bench.

"Hello, Harry. Hello, Draco."

Both boys bowed to her and would have knelt as well, but she halted that with a gesture. "There is no need to bend your knee here, we are not in the throne room. Here, you are my family, and such gestures are not necessary away from the public eye. I trust that the Healers have explained what I will try to do for you? Yes? Good. Have I your permission to begin?"

"Uh . . . Your Majesty? Are you going to . . . read my mind somehow?" Harry asked uneasily.

"No. Not in the sense that you mean. I will scan only for those memories of Jarillion and his dark compulsion. I will not go deeply into your mind, only enough to find them. It would help if you could think about them, I know this is a painful subject, but it shall go quicker if you could aid me . . ."

Harry swallowed. "Yes, Your Majesty. I'll . . .I'll try."

Titania reached out and placed her hands on either side of Harry's head. "Look at me, child. Into my eyes. Yes . . . very good!"

Her voice took on a hypnotic quality and Harry found himself growing very sleepy, very relaxed, his eyes started to droop, even as he struggled to remain awake and remember the awful feeling when Jarillion smashed through his will and took over his mind . . .

Some fifteen minutes later, Titania withdrew from Harry's mind. There were tears upon both their cheeks, but the queen had been successful. "There! 'Tis done, child. I have repaired the worst of the damage. Though you may still have a few flashbacks and even a nightmare or two. Unfortunately, even I cannot totally remove all the damage done. You ought to speak with Inularian, and allow her to walk your dreams, she may banish them better than even I."

Harry nodded, staring at the queen, who still had tear tracks down her perfect porcelain skin. "Don't . . .don't cry . . ." he whispered, lifting a hand to wipe his own cheeks.

Titania gave him a wry grin. "Ah, Harry. Those tears are for you, in repressing your memories, I absorbed some of your pain and fear, and no child should ever have to feel such agony." She unselfconsciously blotted her eyes with a small lacy handkerchief. "How do you feel now?"

"Better. Thank you, Your Grace."

"It is I who owe you, Harry Snape, for protecting my granddaughter in the den of the beast." She inclined her head to him. "Go, child, and see your father. He has been most concerned for you."

Harry slipped off the bench and went over to Severus, and Draco took his place.

Like Harry, Draco too was nervous, but Titania soon put him at ease. "I shall not pry into your private thoughts and memories, little dragon. I shall search only for those concerning that scoundrel Jarillion and his attempt to break you to his will. Only that, and no more. Now . . . look at me, child."

Draco felt an odd kind of pressure in his head, and then he was floating somewhere very peaceful.

Severus was listening intently to the instructions Healer Auriane was giving him, about continuing the boys' treatment at home. She was going to give him several bottles of the restorative water, one dose to be taken at bedtime, and also said they should eat plenty of merlinnas and wholesome foods and get plenty of rest. She also said that once a week they needed to return to the grotto to swim in the pool, until the end of the summer. She suggested that Smidgen monitor the two boys' dreams as well.

When Harry approached him, he placed an arm about his son and continued to listen. Once the Healer was through, he turned to his son and asked how he felt now.

"Loads better, Dad. You really ought to try swimming in that pool. I feel like a whole new person."

Severus' fingers tightened upon his son, pulling him close. "That's good, Harry. I know exactly how that pool feels, as I've used it more than once."

"When?"

"Back in the days when I spied for the Order. Only the Pool of Restoration could erase the dark taint on me after I attended a Death Eater meeting. Sarai showed me them once I told her what I truly did for a living, besides teaching."

"Oh. It's really awesome!" his son declared.

"I'll be using it soon." Severus said, though he didn't mention he would probably be with Sarai when he did so.

Harry yawned. For some reason he felt very sleepy.

Pretty soon Draco joined them, and Severus hugged him too and asked how he felt.

"Good, but tired," Draco answered.

"That's as it should be," Auriane laughed.

Sarai rose and offered to show them to the guest rooms on the third floor of the palace. That was where they had stayed last time, after the royal hunt.

But Titania told her they were to be placed in the family wing, next to the room Nesmay was in, and so Sarai and a small escort of Blades led the way to the opulent family wing, where a single suite was the size of three rooms in the Dursley house.

Harry and Draco didn't take the time to admire their surroundings, however. They were beginning to feel the effects of so much healing and fell asleep as soon as they lay down upon their beds. A few of the Blades remained to guard their door, while Sarai returned to the grotto to take a dip in the pool with her betrothed, scouring away all the stress and exhaustion of battle.

RPMRPMRPM

Nesmay surfaced from the realm of dreams feeling somewhere between being stomped on by a giant and floating upon a cloud. She knew the floating feeling was because of the potion the Healers had given her just before she had fallen asleep, it was a pain reliever. The other feeling was a result of overspending her magic yet again. She struggled up from the mists of oblivion into reality, opening her eyes and looking about her.

She recognized her surroundings, this was her room in the palace, and there upon the small oak nightstand rested her wand. The sight of the familiar kingwood wand relieved her immensely. Though she wondered if she were still worthy of carrying it. Even more surprising was the fact that Titania was sitting beside her, her ageless serene face now creased with a furrow between her brows and her eyes were bright with something Nesmay had never thought to see in them—concern and worry.

"Gran?"

"Nesmayallindra, you're awake! At last!" Titania exclaimed. She immediately reached over and put her hand on her granddaughter's forehead. "Good. Your fever has broken, which means you're coming out of the spell shock. How do you feel?"

Nesmay attempted to sit up and winced. The back of her neck felt like someone had banged her head against a wall repeatedly. "Like I've kicked about by a dragon and a giant playing hurley."

Titania helped her sit up, propping Nesmay up with several thick pillows. "How's that?"

"A lot better. How long have I been asleep?"

"Not nearly enough to cure what ails you, child," Titania said quietly. "Do you realize what almost happened to you, Nesmayallindra? You nearly drained yourself to nothing. You almost followed your mother to the next world."

To her astonishment, Nesmay saw tears in her indomitable grandmother's eyes. Could Titania be _crying_? Over _her_? "Grandmother? Why are you crying?"

"Why am I . . .?" Titania repeated. "Am I not allowed to weep over nearly losing my grandchild? Do you think me so coldhearted as all that?"

"You care then? About what happens to me?"

"Always, Nesmayallindra. How could you ever think otherwise?"

"Because . . . you sent me away. To Prince Manor, to live with mortals. I thought . . . you were ashamed of me, that you wanted to be rid of me. Uncle Oberon told me often enough that a half-breed shouldn't associate with royalty, that I was a mistake who ought to be put away somewhere that I couldn't disgrace the family . . ."

"Stop!" Titania ordered. "No more! Oberon was wrong, child. About everything, and he . . . he betrayed his family in the worst way."

Nesmay gaped at her, for this was the first time she had ever heard Titania criticize her heir. And there was something hard and fierce about the fae queen when she spoke about her son. Nesmay trembled a little. "What do you mean, Gran?" Then she recalled Jarillion's promise to reveal the traitor within the Seelie court and she gasped. Surely not . . .

"I mean that your uncle, my heir, betrayed you by giving you up to Jarillion. He admitted as much during the hearing that I held while you were sleeping. He and your cousin Malchiar went behind my back and dealt in secret with the Winter prince, arranging your kidnapping."

Nesmay felt as though she had been stabbed. "I always knew he never liked me . . . he was always yelling at me and threatening to curse me and make me sorry I was so impudent, but I never . . . I never knew he hated me so much . . .Malchiar either . . ." Her fingers tightened upon the blanket. "What did I ever do to make them hate me so much . . .?"

"Oh, little one. What happened was not your fault. Oberon's prejudice against you was none of your doing. You did nothing wrong." Titania said, moving abruptly to sit beside her stricken granddaughter.

"Except be born and kill my mother."

"Nesmayallindra! Never say that! Your mother might have died giving you life, but she never regretted that for an instant. She loved you from the first moment she saw you. I know, I was there. Your life is a gift, child. Never doubt it." Suddenly she put her arms about Nesmay and held her. "Oberon was cruel to ever suggest otherwise. But you need never worry about him again. I have banished him forever from my court, he is no longer a member of this family."

"You mean . . . you've exiled him? For how long?"

"Forever."

"Malchiar too?"

"Yes. Their names are to be stricken from our lineage, for they have done the unforgivable and deliberately harmed a child of their blood, and royal blood at that. I have no son named Oberon. Or grandson named Malchiar. They are dead to me. As I am dead to them. They will not remember their lives as fae royalty, for I shall not have a civil war in my realm, where brother fights sister for my throne after I am gone. They shall live and die in the mortal world, kin wrecked."

"You did that . . . for me?"

"Yes. It was justice, and you are deserving of it, Nesmayallindra. Half-human you may be, but you are still my grandchild, and not even kin are above the laws of this realm."

Nesmay blinked hard, then whispered, "Then . . . I guess Severus was right. You really do love me." Sudden tears streaked her face.

"As much as I ever loved Aislinn," Titania whispered, hugging Nesmay closer. "Through you, she lives still. For that, and for all that you are and will become, I love you."

Nesmay clung to her, unable to speak, her throat clogged with sobs. Finally she said, "But Gran . . . I almost became a dark witch . . . Jarillion . . . he almost made me like . . . my father."

"Almost doesn't count. You fought him, didn't you? He coerced you down the dark road, you did not follow willingly. That does not make you a dark witch, only a victim of a wicked sorcerer. You could never be like your father, Nesmayallindra. You have not the selfish heart and arrogance that he did. When he came to me long ago, he did so for himself, he wanted power for his own sake, and he knew not how to love. You may have half his blood, but you are none of his spirit. Severus told me how you showed mercy to Jarillion there in his fortress, that you did not allow revenge to overwhelm you and make you a killer. Thomas Riddle would have never done that. Revenge was his lifeblood. But you, my dear one, are your mother's daughter. You walked the line and stayed the course, like a true Highstar. And I am proud to call you a member of my family."

"I love you, Gran."

Then she began to cry, because she had never expected to be forgiven, and it was the only thing that made any sense right then.

Titania said nothing, merely held her close, thanking all the Powers That Be that Nesmay was home safe.

_Much later:_

Nesmay returned to her room from the grotto, wearing a lavender spidersilk robe and slippers, escorted by one of the Queen's Blades. She had bathed in the restorative waters of the pool and felt almost like herself again. Her talk with Titania had restored some vital part of her, a part that had been lost somewhere in Jarillion's dark fortress, and now she felt more at home here than she had ever done. But perhaps that was due to the simple fact that Oberon and Malchiar were no longer around to make her life miserable.

Running her fingers through her shirt hair to make it stand up in its trademark spikes, Nesmay pushed open the door to her room.

"Wait, my lady," ordered the guard, and entered before her, making certain it was safe.

Nesmay rolled her eyes, unaccustomed to such protocol, but remained outside in the hall until the guard told her it was safe. She walked into her room . . . and saw Harry and Draco lounging upon the divan in the sitting room.

"Hey, Nessie," Draco greeted, smiling.

"Draco! Harry!" she exclaimed, smiling back. "Mileena didn't tell me I had visitors." Then she added, "Don't call me Nessie."

"Can I help it if that name fits you?" Draco asked aggravatingly.

"Ignore him," Harry said, giving Draco a poke in the ribs. "He lives to be annoying."

"Like someone else I could name," his brother snorted. He eyed Nesmay up and down. "Where were you? Thought you were stuck in bed."

"I was, until my Healer decided I need to go down and marinate myself in the grotto," Nesmay told him. She crossed the room and hugged both boys. "Have you been there?"

"Yeah. Your grandmother took us right after she kicked Oberon and his son's arse out of Faerie," Harry said.

"What happened to Jarillion? He was exiled too, right?"

"Oh, yeah. His mother, Queen Maeve, disowned him straight off, and then he was made a slave and had his magic removed for good," Draco told her.

"A slave? To whom?"

"Baba Yaga, otherwise known as Gloriana, Queen of Exiles, your other aunt," Harry said.

Nesmay's jaw dropped. "You mean, Gran's other sister? Where did she come from?"

"She helped Dad and Sarai through the Endless Waste," answered Draco, and he then told her everything that had happened since she had passed out in Severus' arms.

"What a brilliant punishment! The high and mighty prince of Winter is now nothing but a lowly potscrubber . . .and one with no magic to boot! I can't say I'm sorry." Nesmay gloated.

"Neither can we. How are you, Nesmay?" Harry asked seriously.

"I'm . . .all right. I guess. I don't feel so . . . filthy anymore, if that's what you're getting at." She eyed him in return. "You two look like princes now, in those clothes. I almost didn't recognize you." She teased. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better than we were when we came out of Jarillion's keep," Draco said honestly. "That pool of yours is incredible. We need to find one and transport it to Hogwarts."

"I don't think they exist in your world, or if they do, they're hidden," Nesmay said. She peered at Draco worriedly. "You _sure_ you're okay? Because people placed under a compulsion like that usually don't bounce back so quickly . . ."

"What can I say? I'm amazing . . .Ow! Damn it, Harry!" He turned and glared at his sibling.

"What he means is we've been cleansed of the dark taint, but we still need sessions with a Healer and more with the pool," Harry put in. "But we're going to be all right eventually," he added upon seeing Nesmay pale.

She dropped her gaze to her slippers, her hands twisting about each other. "I'm sorry. If it wasn't for me . . . you wouldn't have ever gotten hurt like that . . ."

"That's bat dung, and you know it," Harry said suddenly, his green eyes flashing. "Don't go blaming yourself for my choice. Or Draco's. We knew when we started that kicking Jarhead's arse wasn't going to be easy. But we did what we had to, and that's all there is to it. Considering what he was, we're damn lucky we came out as well as we did. And that's thanks to _you_, Nesmayallindra. We all saved each other, remember?"

"Because nobody messes with a Snape . . . or a Malfoy, and gets to brag about it," Draco added. "Now quit feeling sorry for yourself and act like a princess, okay?"

Nesmay lifted her head and glared daggers at him. "You know, Draco, if you weren't my relative I'd do something horrible to you."

"I know. But at least you're not moping now." He drawled. Then he ducked the slipper she threw at him.

"Quarreling already, I see," remarked Severus from the doorway.

Nesmay squeaked and turned around. "Err . . . it wasn't what it looked like, Severus."

Snape just raised an eyebrow. "On the contrary, Nesmayallindra, I believe it was exactly what it looked like." Then he beckoned to her with a finger. "Come here."

She eyed him warily. "Am I in trouble? Because _he_ started it."

Severus just looked at her, not saying anything.

Nesmay bit her lip, then she walked over to him, head up, willing to take his censor unflinchingly.

Severus waited until she was in front of him before he took her by the shoulders, shook her gently, and said, "Don't ever scare me like that again, young lady!" Then he pulled her into his arms.

She buried her face in his tunic, murmuring what sounded like an apology.

"Hush," he growled lovingly, ruffling her spiked hair. "I'm saving my lecture for later, when you're fully healed and won't escape it by passing out. Right now, we're due in your grandmother's private chambers for a late supper, so best make yourself presentable. Afterwards, there's something I need to discuss with you."

She lifted her head from his shirt. "Like what?"

"That's for me to know and you to wonder."

She made a face at him. "You're awful."

"Many of my students would agree with you," he said, unfazed.

"Now I'm going to drive myself crazy," she pouted.

"Perhaps then you'll manage to stay out of trouble."

"Sure she will," Draco laughed, then stopped when Severus gave him a warning glare.

Nesmay gazed pleadingly up at her mentor. "How about a hint? Just a tiny one."

"Learn patience, Nesmayallindra." He returned, unperturbed. Then he bent and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Welcome back, hedgehog princess. Now hurry and dress, you don't keep royalty waiting, even if you are her favorite granddaughter."

Nesmay grinned up at him, the old sparkle back in her eyes. Then she promptly ordered all of them out of the room.

**What is the important thing Severus wishes to discuss with Nesmay?**

**A crate of butterbeer for whoever guesses correctly! Please review!**


	63. A Family At Last

**63**

**A Family At Last**

They had dinner in the queen's private apartments, a small intimate gathering of family. In addition to Titania, there was also her youngest son, Balin, who had come of age last year. He was now a century old, as the fae measured time. He was the one who had invited them to hunt manticores and chimeras in the Deep Wood last year. There was also her middle son, Aubrey, a serious fellow, who greeted the Snapes, Sarai, and Nesmay cordially. Balin grinned outright, and said, "Well met again, Wizard Severus, and Harry and Draco. I think you'll have a better time at this dinner than you did last year in the forest."

"I'm sure we will, Lord Balin." Severus said, bowing to him.

He turned to his old bodyguard. "Sarai, it's good to see that you haven't lost your touch. I heard you took down a frost giant in old Jarhead's palace. I always figured you were a match for anything, _Amarsi_."

Sarai chuckled. "Not quite, my lord. Though I do my best. Have you been keeping up with your sparring?"

"Ah . . . yes," the prince said hesitantly. "But no one spars with me quite the way you do."

She arched an eyebrow. "You mean, your teacher doesn't knock you down when you become too careless? Or give you a swat with a practice blade when you leave yourself vulnerable?"

Balin laughed. "Rhian is good, Captain, but he doesn't push me quite so hard."

"Perhaps we could spar again soon, cousin." Sarai offered. She moved to sit beside Severus.

Balin turned and smiled at Nesmay. "Glad to see you're up and about, little niece." He gently drew her into an embrace. "You had us worried, you know."

Nesmay was startled. "You were worried about me, Uncle Balin?"

"Yes. You never should have had to suffer at that insane bastard's hands," the prince said, his eyes flashing. "If Oberon were here right now, I'd call him out for what he did."

"And end up with three feet of silveron in your gullet, little brother," Aubrey commented wryly.

Balin turned. "I know how to fence, Aubrey."

"Oberon knew more, little brother."

"Enough! You will not mention his name again," Titania declared frostily.

Both her sons nodded deferentially. Balin escorted Nesmay to a chair beside him and they all sat down.

Nesmay was wearing new spidersilk trousers and a long tunic in a royal blue color, with a purple shirt beneath and a sash that held her wand and a small belt pouch. She also had new black boots, which were a bit stiff. She seemed more at ease with her relatives now than before, but was dying of curiosity to find out what Severus wished to discuss with her.

Wind sprite servants came around with bowls of warmed rose water and heated towels to wash their hands. There were gold-rimmed place settings, and the utensils bore the royal crest upon them. Harry felt awkward at first, unused to such opulence, but he soon relaxed when Sarai showed him how to figure out the silverware. "Start from the outside in. And don't worry if you make a mistake, no one will laugh at you here."

"Well, I might," Draco whispered, snickering. Harry kicked his ankle under the table.

The meal was delicious, venison in a wine sauce, crispy fried potatoes with onions and sage, fresh greens in oil and vinegar, wild carrots in a honey glazed sauce, wild mushroom soup, and several kinds of fruits and small sweet cakes sprinkled with sugar. Each dish was served by a small wood sprite, half the size of a fae, dressed in the royal livery. For drinks there were summerdew served in a cordial sized glass—only the fae royals drank that, Severus declined and so did Sarai. Nesmay drank frost wine and the boys had merlinna juice.

Once everyone was finished, Titania clapped her hands and invisible instruments began to play a spritely air. "I hope all of you found your dinner satisfactory. I asked Fernwood, my chef, to prepare something filling and tasty. I commend her for exceeding my expectations. I am very grateful to have this time with my family, especially my granddaughter. However, I do have an announcement to make. In three days time, in the Garden of Eternal Spring, Severus Tobias Snape, Lord of Prince Manor, and Captain-Lady Sarai Kinsalari Valinek shall be joined in matrimony, in the ancient rite of bonding. I have called you here so that you may act as witnesses. Morgana could not make it, she had other duties to attend to as my heir, but she too shall be a witness."

"Will you be performing the ceremony then, Mother?" asked Balin.

"Of course." Titania answered. "Sarai, I have taken the liberty of informing your parents, they will be leaving their home and traveling here on the morrow."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Sarai said. "You are most kind."

"And most eager to have a reason to celebrate, considering this latest turn of events," the fae queen admitted. "The ceremony will be in private, for that is something only family may witness. But the feast following will be for the entire court and any friends you may wish to invite."

Severus cleared his throat. "Might I invite Lord Philip Anthony Snape, my Nightwalker ancestor? He wished to stand as my best man."

"Of course. He is family, is he not?"

"And his wife and his twin sons will be guests at the feast," Sarai added.

Harry was happy to hear that, for he had missed his Uncle Phil and Julie and the twins. It would be great to see them again.

Draco wondered if Duncan Wavestrider would be there as well. He was tempted to ask if they could invite Hermione and Katie. But he was unsure of the protocol in a fae wedding. Still, it couldn't hurt to ask. "Dad, what if we wanted to invite Hermione and Katie?"

"And maybe Ron too?" suggested Harry. "Would that be all right?"

Severus looked at Titania. "Your Majesty, the mortals my sons are speaking of are their girlfriends and students of mine. Is it permitted to have mortals attend the wedding feast?"

"It is, though you must chaperone your guests yourself, and you are responsible for their behavior." Titania told them.

Harry and Draco both grinned. Then Draco said, "Two days isn't a lot of time to send out invitations."

The queen smirked. "Fear not, little dragon. The invitations shall be delivered by shimmerlings, and get there in the blink of an eye, once you give me the addresses."

Balin lifted his glass in a toast. "Congratulations, Severus and Sarai. May you be blessed and happy in your union!" He tossed back a shot of summerdew as if it were water. Harry's eyes nearly bugged out. He could have never done that. Then again, he wasn't a full fae.

"May you know long life and prosperity." Aubrey added.

"May you have many children and love each other for all that you are," Titania said, then everyone drank.

Later on, Severus sent the boys to bed, and then he and Sarai escorted Nesmay back to her room. Once within her quarters, the Potions Master turned to her and said, "I wished to speak with you in private about the contract drawn up for your apprenticeship, Nesmay."

"What about it?"

"I wish to amend it."

"Amend it . . .b-but why?" she squeaked. "Don't you want to teach me anymore? I promise, I'll try my best not to misbehave or . . . or blow up any more shops . . ."

Severus held up a hand before she could speak further. "Nesmay, did I mention anything about breaking the contract?"

"No, sir. But . . . why do you want to amend it then, if you're not going to send me away?"

"I wish to add to it." Severus answered. "Your grandmother and I spoke at length while you were asleep today. Due to the kidnapping, your instruction was interrupted, as was your time with Ollivander rebuilding his shop. That was not something you could control, however the fact remains that you still owe a debt to the wandmaker which you need to fulfill, and I still owe you at least three months of tutoring. I feel I can fulfill the contract best if you were to come and live at the manor with me indefinitely."

Nesmay was puzzled. "I . . . don't understand."

"I mean that I would like to make you my official ward," Severus said. "The contract makes you my apprentice for a certain length of time, but I think you need longer for me to teach you the mastery of your powers. The queen also believes that you need a safe haven, and you shall not have that here at court, given the political maneuvering that went on previously. Despite her punishment of your uncle and cousin, Titania knows there are many who agreed with him, and some of those might try to harm you, despite her protection. I agree with her. Your uncle had his own faction at court and they will hold you responsible for losing their patron. So . . . I suggested that you come live with me, at the manor. Since you are of royal blood, I cannot adopt you, as you are of higher rank, and your grandmother wishes for you to still be a member of her family. However, I can make you my ward, which means you will be provided for and raised by me until you are of age, and tutored by me in magic. You shall still bear the name of Highstar, but for all intents and purposes I shall consider you my daughter. Is that agreeable to you? Or would you prefer if I leave the contract as is?"

Nesmay was silent for several long moments. Of all things, this was the last thing she had ever expected to discuss. She felt overwhelmed that Severus would offer her such a thing, knowing who and what she was. Being an apprentice was one thing. But being a ward meant quite another.

"You don't have to give us an answer tonight," Sarai murmured. "You can think it over."

"Do you . . . really want me?" Nesmay asked softly. "Or is this just . . . because you feel sorry for me?" It was an impertinent question, she knew, but she wished to make sure that Severus truly wanted her and was not making the offer because of guilt or pity.

"No, Nesmay. While I do feel bad that you were treated abominably by your uncle, that is not why I'm offering to make you a part of my family. I am offering because you deserve the chance to have what all children ought to have growing up, a good home and a decent family. Your grandmother, though she loves you, cannot always be there for you, she needs to oversee her kingdom. But I have no obligations beyond my duties as a professor, and I can be there to guide and instruct you and . . . to love you as well." Severus cleared his throat awkwardly. "I know what it is to grow up without a father, mine was never there for me, and when he was there, he made my life hell. You will never know your father, but that doesn't mean you don't need one."

"Or a mother." Sarai said. "I know I am not my cousin Aislinn, but I promise to teach you and love you as she would have, child. If you will have me?"

Nesmay stared at them, tears of joy welling in her eyes. "I will! There is no one I want more." She looked directly at Severus. "When I was little, and living with my tutor at Graystone Manor, sometimes I used to dream about my father. I was afraid of him, for I knew he was an evil man, but at the same time I wished I knew him. He made me sick and ashamed, but I would have given anything to know what it was like to have a father like everyone else. But now when I dream about having a father, I see you in his place, Severus. It would be an honor, sir, to be your daughter."

Abruptly she rose and hugged Severus hard about the neck.

Severus held her, and whispered, "Likewise, hedgehog princess."

"Thank you!" she whispered, kissing him on the cheek.

Then she went to hug Sarai, who said, "Welcome to our family."

Nesmay smiled and then went to sign the documents consenting to the wardship, which Severus had in his pocket.

The next morning, several shimmerlings went to deliver the invitations, which were written out in gold ink upon the purest white parchment, with golden fairy dust sprinkled inside the envelopes. Appropriate clothing was also provided by the queen's wardrobe mistress. All of their recipients were deeply honored and excited to be part of this wonderful event. It had been decided that Severus would go and fetch the three students with a Port Key, bringing them to the manor and using the gate to cross over into the realm of the fae. He would also provide them all, including his sons, with temporary charmed amulets which would protect them against fae glamour and any kind of after effects from eating certain fae foods and drinks. While it was untrue that you would be forced to remain in the fae kingdom if you ate their food, it was fact that some foods and drinks did not react well with human physiology. Also, some of the fae could be capricious pranksters, and mortals were considered fair game. Wishing to prevent any kind of emergency dosing with potions, Severus decided to make charmed pendants for the girls and boys to wear. Luckily, Sarai helped him, so it did not take too long.

The day of the wedding dawned with a light misty drizzle, considered good luck by some of the fae. But the mist and wet soon burned off as the sun rose, until by midmorning it was fair and bright, with a cooling west wind. Severus had departed to bring his students to the manor, and from there to the Seelie court. He left his beloved asleep, knowing he wouldn't set eyes on her again till the ceremony, for it was considered ill luck for the groom to see his bride in all her finery before the vows were spoken.

Sarai woke instantly, as soon as her mother, Juliana, and several of her fae kinswomen, including Nesmay and Morgana, entered the bedroom. They were singing the traditional fae wedding blessing, which entreated the bride to rise from her bower and seek her bath. Within minutes, the Captain found herself surrounded by her laughing kinswomen, draped with a soft robe of golden silk and satin, and led down the hall and out a side door. The women meandered down to a concealed grotto, where a large pool of water, fed by the ancient River Trealis, flowed. Laughing and clapping, they urged her into the pool, warmed by the sun and a bit of fae magic.

Some of her attendants joined her in the pool, scrubbing her back with lavender oil and her hair with strawberry and freesia soap, playing like seals, indeed one was a selkie, in the water. Sarai quickly abandoned her warrior dignity and frolicked among them, for the bath was a ritual meant to symbolize the leaving of her old life, and childhood, behind and embracing the new life of a wife and mother.

Once the bath was done, her attendants brought her back to her room, where they all helped her dress. Titania's dressmaker had outdone herself, creating a gown that emphasized her slender body and enhanced her. It was made of the best quality spidersilk and glittergem fabric, so named because it looked as though gems were glittering from within the fabric. The dress was gold and white, the colors of royalty and decorated with hundreds of embroidered flowers and leaves and pearls about the bodice. The sleeves were flowing and sheer, like a breath of wind, as was the overskirt. The train was not quite as long as a traditional gown, but the gown billowed about her.

"Just like Severus' robes!" giggled Nesmay irreverently. "You look beautiful, Sarai."

Sarai smiled at her. "Today, I feel beautiful, little daughter." She hugged Nesmay.

"Hold still, Sarai," her mother ordered, she was attempting to braid small sprigs of heather and other wildflowers into her daughter's dark locks. "There! 'Tis done!" She stepped back to admire her daughter. "Ah, such a bride you make, _cara mia! Bellissima!_" Juliana declared, her speech still containing the cadence and rhythm of her Italian roots.

Morgana fastened on her a lovely silver bracelet with a star sapphire in it, while a dryad slipped kidskin slippers upon her feet. A bouquet of traditional flowers, which included heather and lilies, rested upon a table. One last application of golden dust and a final misting of plum blossom scent and the women declared she was a bride even the queen would envy.

"Impossible!" Sarai snorted. Titania was one of the most beautiful fae in the Seelie court, possessing an ethereal extraordinary beauty that drew all eyes to her. Sarai was a half-blood, and not half so compelling. "The queen is the queen and I'm just a guard captain."

"Take a look in the mirror, Sarai. For the warrior has become a princess," urged Juliana.

Sarai turned about to peer into the full length mirror hanging on the opposite wall.

Both eyebrows rose. "Sun, Moon, and Stars! I . . . hardly recognize myself!"

The gown and the crown of flowers softened her angular features, and her bronzed skin set off the pale gold of the bodice and complimented the ivory silk perfectly. The selkie, Oshalla, had done something with a jar of cosmetics that made her green eyes even brighter and wider and her lips fuller. Her tousled curls had been tamed somewhat, and she thought, _How astonishing! I really do look like a princess._

Juliana came and put an arm around her. "You shall make your Severus very happy. Very happy."

Sarai turned about, then said, "But what do I do until the ceremony? That's not for another three hours. I'm not used to being . . . ornamental."

The others just smiled and smirked. "Well . . . " said her mother. "You sit here and listen to us give you advice on your new marriage and how to handle your new husband."

"Mother!" Sarai stared at her. "But I . . . that is . . . Sev and I have . . ."

Juliana tilted her head. "But there's a difference when you're married, _cara_. Especially on the wedding night."

_There is? What's different about it?_ Nesmay thought, then she blushed as she realized what they were referring to. But sex was not a taboo topic in the courts, though Nesmay was a bit young to listen to her elders discussing such an intimate topic. _Hmm . . . this could be . . . interesting . . ._

The others smirked and began to share a few of their own experiences. Nesmay sat, still as a mouse, wide-eyed . . . until Sarai spotted her and told her to go and get dressed for the ceremony. Nesmay groaned, but obeyed, for once they remembered she was there, the attendants stopped talking.

_Adults! They take the fun out of everything,_ the girl thought, before withdrawing.

She had some wood sprite attendants help her with her own gown, which was a turquoise glittergem fabric, not a full length ball gown, but one that drifted lazily to her ankles, accented by opals and pearls about the bodice and the cuffs of her three-quarter length sleeves.

"Now the slippers, mistress," said Willow, holding out the matching satin shoes encrusted with pearls.

Nesmay groaned. She hated wearing court dancing shoes. You couldn't run in them and after one night they had holes because the soles were so thin. She would have preferred her riding boots, or to simply go barefoot, like the sprites and dryads. But she knew that neither her grandmother nor Severus would approve, and so she gritted her teeth and put on the detested things. Later on she would take them off and stuff them in her pocket when no one was looking, and then Glamour her feet to make it seem as though she was wearing the shoes.

Then she went off to see if she could locate Draco and Harry. They were supposed to be meeting their friends at the Gate nexus outside the palace.

"Nervous, Sev?" Phil asked, baring his fangs in a friendly fashion at his younger descendant. The vampire was dressed impeccably in a suit and tails, which would have looked cliché upon anyone other than Philip. But being Philip, he pulled it off with a suave air that would have made Bella Lugosi drool in envy. He was currently serving in his role as best man by helping Severus get dressed and keep him occupied until the ceremony. He carefully brushed off Severus' long cloak, which was a rich midnight blue velvet with a cloth-of-gold hem.

Severus looked up from arranging the cuffs of his doublet. "Not really. Well, perhaps a bit. I'm being foolish, because I know Sarai isn't going to jilt me at the altar." He sighed irritably and tugged his tunic sleeves straight. His tunic was a pale ivory, with a midnight blue doublet over it with jet buttons. Skintight black trousers and thigh-high suede boots that matched the doublet completed the ensemble. A black leather belt held his wand and a small case of potions. His hair was pulled back in a tail and tied with a simple ribbon.

"I think all grooms are a little nervous on their wedding day, even if they're reasonably sure their bride will be meeting them at the church." Phil said. "I know I was, both times."

"_Both_? You were married more than once?"

"When I was sixteen I was handfasted to a noble lass of a good family that my father wished to ally with us. But she died before we could ever truly marry. I still recall being nervous, because we had never met and I was worried she might not like me." Phil gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Centuries later, I met Julie, and even after all that time and experience . . . I was still nervous."

Severus just looked at the vampire askance. "I would have never guessed you would ever be nervous about such a thing."

"I hide it well," Phil grinned. He clipped the cloak to Severus' shoulders. "There! You look like you just stepped from the pages of the Brothers Grimm. Tall, dark, and breathtaking as hell. Sarai will have nothing to complain about."

Severus checked his watch. They still had two more hours. He hoped that his sons and their friends weren't getting up to any mischief in the palace. He felt like standing up and pacing, he was both excited and anxious and just wished the whole bloody ceremony was over already.

There was a small mini bar in his suite, and Phil poured two classes of bubbly fruity merlot. "Wine?" he held out a glass to Severus.

Severus hesitated, then took the glass. He took a cautious sip. It was good, sweet and tart. "Not bad."

"Why don't you tell me about what happened to the boys and your new ward over the summer?" Phil suggested.

"All right," Severus acquiesced, and then he began.

By the time the tale ended it was almost the afternoon. Philip was outraged on the behalf of the boys and Nesmay and said that if the queens' hadn't given the evil twit the punishment he'd deserved, then Phil would have had to extract some vampire vengeance upon him. "As it is, he'll live a long life with his cowardice and the knowledge that he was an arsehole. I'm glad the children will be all right. That's all that really matters in the end. And now you know why no one but an utter fool crosses Titania."

Severus nodded.

Afterwards, Phil suggested they play a few hands of Dragon's Wild.

Nesmay didn't have to go far to find Draco or Harry, she practically ran into them coming around the corner to her room. Both of her new "brothers" were wearing brand new outfits, tunic, trews, and doublets with slashed sleeves and half cloaks. Harry was wearing royal blue, black, and silver, while Draco had on green, black, and silver. Their wands, like Nesmay's, were tucked into holders on their belts. And both of them looked rather uncomfortable in the formal court attire.

"I look like a dork," Harry muttered to Draco. "Like I'm playing dress up."

"You sort of are, Phoenix," Draco smirked. "I mean, you're dressed like a fae noble."

"Well, I _am_ nobility . . . sort of . . . through the Prince line." Harry mused. "But I don't feel like I'm a noble."

"That's because you weren't raised like I was." Draco said, swirling his cloak around him. He sniffed loftily.

Nesmay rolled her eyes. "Starseekers! Quit griping. You two look fine . . ."

"We do, Nessie?" Draco turned and saw her.

"I told you never to call me that," she growled. Then she added, smirking, " . . . for a pair of dorks."

"Real nice, Nesmay," Harry scowled at her. Then he did a doubletake. "Merlin's socks! You're wearing court dress _and_ shoes?"

Nesmay grimaced. "Only for your father's wedding, Harry."

"What did he bribe you with?" Draco asked slyly.

"Nothing! I'm doing it because I respect him . . . and he's legally my guardian now."

Both boys blinked. "So . . . that makes you our sister then," Harry stated.

"Yes. Do you . . . mind?" Nesmay asked uncertainly.

"No. I always wanted a sister," Harry said.

"Me too. So now I can tease you forever . . . Nessie," Draco grinned annoyingly.

"Bite me, Draco!" she snapped, she had learned that expression from Harry.

Draco merely smirked, making her want to smack him. "Aren't your friends supposed to be here?"

"Yes. We left them waiting in our room and came to get you," Draco said. He looked her up and down. "Nice dress, little sister. Weasley might just pass out when he sees you."

She blushed. "Don't try and flatter me, Draco." Then she turned and made her way down the hall to the suite Harry and Draco shared.

Draco looked at Harry. "What did I say now?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Girls aren't rational sometimes. Come on."

They caught up to Nesmay, and Harry opened the door and went in, followed by Draco and Nesmay. Katie and Hermione were sitting on the divan where he'd left them, and Ron was examining everything in the room with interest.

"Crikey, Harry! This clock is made of solid gold!" his friend exclaimed. "Do you know how much this would be worth back home?"

"Gold's not really worth all that much here. We prize silver more. It's more useful." Nesmay said.

Ron spun around. "Err . . . hi! You must be Harry's cousin, right?" He came forward and held out his hand. "I'm Ron Weasley."

"Nesmayallindra Highstar. Well met, Ron. But you can just call me Nesmay. Everyone does except my grandmother." She clasped his hand.

"Your grandmother is Queen Titania, right?" Hermione asked.

"She is."

Ron blinked. "Then you're like a princess?"

"Well, in a way. I was born on the wrong side of the blanket, as they say, so I'm not in the direct line of succession, but my mother was Aislinn, Titania's youngest daughter, so I'm of royal blood." Nesmay answered. "I'm also Wizard Severus' ward now, so that makes me Harry and Draco's foster sister."

"That's great!" Katie said. "I always told Harry he'd make a great older brother. I'm Kathryn Bell, Katie to my friends." She shook hands with Nesmay.

"She's also my girlfriend," Harry added.

"And Hermione's mine," Draco said. He put an arm about her.

"Pleased to meet you, Your Highness. I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione also extended a hand.

Nesmay chuckled. "I'm just Nesmay, Hermione. The title's only given to a legitimate child in direct line of succession. Welcome to my home."

"I'm so excited to be here," Hermione said, her eyes glowing. "I've never been anywhere except Cambridgeshire and Hogwarts. This is so . . . amazing!"

"You haven't seen anything yet, 'Mione," Draco told her. "Just wait till you see the banqueting hall. And the gardens. And the stables and kennels, with the misthounds and magesteeds."

"I can't wait! But will there be time?" she asked worriedly.

Harry checked his watch. "Yes. We have about two hours. We'll need to be in the Garden of Eternal Spring by noon. Right, Nesmay?"

"Right. Don't worry. I asked Mileena, one of the Queen's Blades, to send a shimmerling to remind us about the time." Nesmay said.

Katie bounced to her feet. "Then let's go. By the way, Nesmay, your dress is absolutely gorgeous. I can't believe the queen actually gave us these beautiful clothes!" She smoothed her hand down her silk gown, which was a flattering sea green with turquoise and aquamarines and leaping dolphins embroidered along the bodice and sleeves. She had a headpiece to match and shoes also.

"Thanks! Gran is a stickler for court protocol, which means dressing to standards, and she doesn't want any of her guests embarrassed by wearing inappropriate clothing." Nesmay explained.

"I can't believe how good this looks on me," Hermione said. She wore a dress similar in style to Katie's, but hers was a flattering damask rose color, with pink pearls and bright pink sapphires and cats embroidered on the bodice.

"I can," murmured Draco, gently kissing her cheek. "I missed you, bookworm."

"Missed you too, Dragonheart," she whispered back.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Please, you two! If you're going to go all googly eyed, get a room." He was dressed similar to Harry and Draco, though his ensemble was scarlet, black, and gold.

"Jealous, Weasley?" Draco asked.

Ron shook his head. "No. Zara and I have been writing to each other." He fingered the pendant Snape had given him. "Your dad gave us these, Harry, so we could eat and drink without worrying about getting sick or something."

"Yeah, we have them too," Harry said, he was wearing his beneath his tunic, strung on the same chain as his medallion.

"Will there be dancing, Harry?" asked Katie, as they walked down the hall.

"Of course! There's never been a faerie revel without it!" Harry laughed.

Ron looked worried. "Uh . . . Harry . . .I'm not really good at dancing. And I . . .uh . . . don't have a partner." He was blushing fiercely.

"Oh. Err . . ." Now Harry felt bad. He hadn't meant Ron to feel like a third wheel.

"I'll be your partner, Ron," Nesmay said. "I'm not too good at dancing myself, even though I was given lessons as a small child. My dancing master said I was as clumsy as a mortal knight with hobnail boots." She shook her head. "That way if we step on each other's feet, we'll have an excuse to sit out."

Ron cast her a grateful look. "Thanks, Nesmay."

They walked out into the bright sunshine into the courtyard and were greeted by an enthusiastic Cafall, who had been out hunting with the queen's pack of hounds. He bayed and jumped at them, causing the girls to yell, "No! Down! Your muddy paws will ruin our gowns."

Cafall sat, looking rather abashed, his tail wagging. But then Nesmay petted him and said, "I know, you're happy to see us, and if I wasn't in this court dress, I'd play with you, but . . .Come on, the stables and kennels are over here." She led the way to the huge barns that housed the fae steeds and hounds, Cafall trotting beside her and the others behind.

_The Garden of Eternal Spring:_

Sarai had always loved spending time in the Garden of Eternal Spring, one of the lovelier gardens of the Seelie court. It was a garden that was a cross between tame and wild, that had sections which were perfectly trimmed and landscaped and other portions that were left deliberately wild, to celebrate the timeless beauty of nature. There were sculpted rock pools and lily ponds within it, hedges of climbing roses and fruit trees. The air was filled with the aroma of hyacinths and lavender, the scent of new peaches and cherry blossoms drifted upon the breeze, causing several witnesses' stomachs to clamor for food. A breeze sprang up, hard enough to shake the overhanging tree with pink cherry blossoms, which drifted down to fall all over her and Titania, who was standing beside her, wearing a gown of royal purple. It felt odd, to have her queen standing beside her, when for so many years she had stood before her Blade. But Titania had told her that on this day, the day of her bonding, she was equal to her monarch.

They stood on a small rise, carpeted with spring wild flowers, before a stone pathway that led to a large arch which had colorful flowers entwined about it. Unlike most mortal ceremonies, it was not the groom who waited for the bride to come to him, but the other way around. Sarai shifted slightly in impatience, wondering what was keeping Severus. All of the witnesses were here, including Phil. Only the groom was absent.

Then he was there, in a swirl of midnight blue velvet and silk, standing tall and proud beneath the arch. Sarai felt her breath catch. He looked magnificent, a true warrior mage, and though he was not blessed with the immortally handsome looks of his fae cousins, Sarai found him even more attractive. His crooked nose and slender face were imperfect, but it was those very imperfections that gave him character and made him unique. She had lived among a race of perfectly beautiful women and men for so long that she cherished those who were different. And Severus was the most wonderfully different man she had ever known. He was by turns aggravating and sarcastic, tender and funny, fierce and brilliant, tormented and insecure. She loved him for all that he was, even when he made her long to slap him silly with her practice blade.

She gave him a welcoming smile, her eyes shining with appreciation and love.

He returned her smile with one of his own, and began to walk towards her. Invisible instruments began to play a wedding march as he strode down the pathway. He looked neither to the right or left, but kept his eyes right on her, and in them was all of the love and acceptance she could ever wish. It was perhaps the greatest gift he could offer, the gift of himself and the heart he had once buried in a grave with a red-haired witch named Lily.

She held out a hand, and as he reached her, he clasped it tightly. He did not speak then, but he did not need to. She could see in his eyes how happy he was and how much he loved her. Together, they turned to face Titania.

The fae queen gave them a smile, then held her hands above her head and cried, "Kinsmen, today we invite you to witness the bonding ceremony of Lady Sarai Kinsalari Valinek, former Captain of the Queen's Blades, and Lord Severus Tobias Snape, the Heir to Prince Manor, Wizard and Potions Master. It is my great pleasure to officiate at this ceremony, and join together both the Seelie and mortal realms. Attend and bear witness!"

Titania drew several lengths of colorful ribbon from the air, like a magician pulling handkerchiefs from a hat, and she wound them about both Severus and Sarai's wrists. The ribbons signified a betrothal had been made and would now be concluded. "These are the bonds of betrothal, soon to become the bonds of matrimony. They bring together two hearts, two bodies, and two minds and make them one."

As she spoke, the ribbons began to glow with a gentle light.

She then turned the two to face each other and said, "As the ribbons have bound your hands, so shall the vows you speak bind your spirits." She turned to Sarai.

"Do you, Sarai Kinsalari Valinek, take Severus Tobias Snape to be your husband? To be his constant friend, his partner in life, and his true love? To love him without reservation, honor and respect him, protect him from harm, comfort him in times of distress, and to grow with him in mind and spirit?"

"I do," Sarai answered firmly. The ribbons flared up in joyous affirmation.

Titania looked at Severus. "Do you, Severus Tobias Snape, take Sarai Kinsalari Valinek to be your wife? To be her constant friend, her partner in life, and her true love? To love her without reservation, honor and respect her, protect her from harm, comfort her in times of distress, and to grow with her in mind and spirit?"

"I do." Severus said, and his declaration rang in the air. The ribbons were now glowing gold and purple.

"I grant you my blessing and that of the Bright Creator. Bring forth the rings, so that all who see them shall know of their pledge." She beckoned to Harry and Draco, who came forward and knelt, one on either side of the couple, holding small pillows with the rings balanced on them.

Sarai took the one Draco held and Severus took Harry's. Sarai slipped the ring upon Severus's finger, it was a fine Celtic eternity knot of gold and silver.

"I give you my heart  
At the rising of the sun  
And the setting of the stars.  
To love and to honor  
Through all that may come.  
For all our lives together  
I give you this ring, and with it my vow

Of love and fidelity

Till death's last embrace."

Severus then slid an identical ring upon her finger and repeated the same vow.

There was a brilliant flash of light and the enchanted ribbons were absorbed into the pair, making the bonding complete.

Severus felt a rush of passion and love flow through him then, so strong that he trembled for one brief moment. But then he allowed himself to surrender to it, and he drew Sarai to him and whispered, "Together at last." Then he kissed her. It was electrifying and wild and gentle all at once. It was sweet agony and ecstasy, the fulfillment of everything he had ever dreamed. He never wanted it to end.

But at last he drew away, flushed and grinning, and everyone applauded and cheered. "I love you, Sarai."

"And I, you," she replied, then she kissed him back, just the way he had kissed her. "Forever and always."

When the second round of cheering had died down, Titania said, "The binding is true, and may the blessings of all the elements and the Bright One be upon you till the end of your days. Congratulations!" She bent and kissed them both on the cheek. "Now, to the feast!" She stepped down from the rise, leaving the two silhouetted for a moment against the sky, and gestured.

Flower petals of every kind fell about the new couple in rainbowed droplets, and a bevy of silverlarks flew up behind them, singing joyously.

Laughing, Sarai grasped Severus' hand and they raced down the aisle and through the arch, followed by their sons and daughter, a family at last.

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I intended to post it sooner, but my mother became ill suddenly and I had to take care of her. She is now doing better.**

**The wedding vows Sarai and Severus spoke are taken from the ancient Celtic handfasting vows, and the ring vows are based off an ancient Celtic ring verse as well. If anyone is interested in seeing the picture that served as my inspiration for Sarai's wedding gown, go to my profile and click on the RivendellBridal link. You won't be disappointed! It's posted under the Prince Manor series.**

**Next: The Snapes return home and begin bonding as a family**


	64. Afterglow

**64**

**Afterglow**

**warning: There is some sex in this chapter, though nothing truly graphic. Still . . . if you're under fourteen, you may want to skip it. This has now gone on record as the longest ff I've ever written, though it's nearing completion in several more chapters.**

The ballroom had been decorated to resemble a hidden woodland bower, with green flowering vines hanging from the ceiling and the walls were covered with strands of green ivy entwined with beautiful sparkling ribbons of gold and twilight purple. The floor was a lovely golden oak inset with sparkling gemstone chips and a real stream ran across the southern end of the hall for the selkies and merpeople to relax in. It would shoot up geysers of warmed colored water every few minutes, making the water folk's hair shimmer with brilliant colors. There were tables and chairs with damask gold cloths for the fae and tree-bowers for those, like the dryads and sylphs and butterfly fairies, who preferred to sit ensconced by a living tree.

The guests spilled out of the huge room and into another larger grassy area with tables set up for those of the equine persuasion—like centaurs, pegasi, hippogriffs and fauns. All manner of fodder and fruits were upon that table, as well as fountains and troughs of fresh cool water. Clearly, Titania had spared no expense for this fete, which brought together fae and mortal Houses once again, for the first time in two centuries or more, reaffirming the ancient tie between them.

All kinds of winged fae soared and drifted above their landbound kin, from shimmerlings to wind sprites and ethereal spirits. An invisible orchestra played beautiful ballads while Titania escorted the newlyweds to the royal dais, where they dined along with Harry, Draco, Nesmay, the Hogwarts crowd, Philip and his family and the royal fae. Gauzy-winged fire fae, dressed in the royal livery with tresses that appeared to be living flame, served them from golden plates.

Ron's eyes grew larger and larger when he saw the feast presented to them. It was as large as a medieval royal banquet and then some. There was food of all kinds, from roasted swan in plum sauce to barbecued wild boar ribs. There was chicken with rosemary and grilled salmon with herb and butter sauce. There was lobster and crab, raw oysters, and shrimp in a dozen different ways. There was partridge and pheasant stuffed with cherries and chestnuts and venison roasted with wild onions and garlic. There were salads of wild greens, with and without nuts and fruit, with dressings of oil and vinegar and fresh raspberry vinegrette. There were vegetables, roasted, fried, boiled, and stewed. The bread was small rolls of a golden color, that melted in your mouth and tasted divine with butter and wild clover honey.

"Blimey, Harry! All of this looks so good! Where am I gonna put it all?"

"Uh . . . just taste a little of everything," Harry said.

Pitchers of summerdew, frost wine, and all kinds of juices and sparkling waters were served, in an unending stream from silver and crystal carafes. The Hogwarts friends were careful not to imbibe the fae liquor, not wanting to end up sleeping away the rest of the night. The medallions they wore would protect them from becoming ill or poisoned from some fae ingredient, but not from summerdew's main side effect, which was to send a mortal to sleep. They all toasted the new couple's health over and over, until Hermione declared that if she took one more sip of merlinna juice she would float away.

"But it tastes divine," she said, smiling at Draco, who clinked a glass with her and sipped some more of his sparkling pineapple juice.

"It does." Katie agreed. "This whole banquet is divine!"

"And we haven't even gotten to the dessert," Nesmay told her, taking another bite of her barbecued rib.

"Dessert?" groaned Ron. "Aww, Merlin! I'm so stuffed I can barely breathe."

"Here," Harry dug a potion from his pocket. "Swallow this. It's a Stomach Soother, it'll take care of indigestion for you."

"Thanks!" Ron grinned and chugged it down.

Severus peered down the long table, trying to make sure his children were behaving. Satisfied that they weren't starting a food fight and using their utensils and napkins properly, he turned back to his seatmate, Princess Morgana, and continued telling her about the Tri Wizard Tournament Harry had participated in. Sarai was instructing Prince Aubrey on the finer points of knife throwing, using the tip of her dagger to scratch a diagram on a piece of birchbark given to her by a wood sprite.

The feast lasted several hours, until Titania figured it was time to have her subjects work off all of that food with some dancing. The Queen of the Seelie Court stood and clapped her hands, making all of her subjects and their guests immediately hush and pay attention. Magic enabled her to be heard without raising her voice in every corner of the hall and the expanded addition as well.

"Friends, family, and honored guests, I bid you all welcome to this wedding feast. As you know, no fae celebration is complete without dancing, and I invite all who wish to join me on the floor. But first, we must have the traditional wedding dances, to ensure good fortune and happiness for Severus and Sarai in their marriage. The first dance of the evening belongs to the bride, groom, and their mothers, to honor she who gave them life and to ensure new life springs from this union." She clapped her hands. "Musicians, play us a lively air!"

As the music began, Titania turned to Severus and held out her hand, her eyes glittering. "Severus, I am aware that she who gave you life has passed on, but you are a son-by-marriage to me. Would you accept me as a substitute for Eileen Prince Snape this evening?"

Severus rose and bowed. "It would be a great honor, Your Majesty."

Titania took his hand in hers and led him out onto the dance floor, which was set smack in the middle of the room. They were joined by Sarai and Julianna.

Katie whistled. "Wow, Harry! Your dad's dancing with the Faerie Queen Herself!"

"Merlin! That's just . . . amazing!" Hermione said.

"Why?" Ron wondered.

"Because she's substituting for his mother," Nesmay explained. "You see, this dance is to honor mothers and their children, but Severus' mother is dead, so Gran has taken her place. By doing that, she's showing that he's high in her favor."

Ron gazed at Titania, a bedazzled look in his eyes. "She could pretend to be my mum . . ."

"Ron!" Hermione smacked him on the back of the head.

Draco snickered. "Leave him be, Hermione. He wouldn't be the first to get all bewitched by Titania. Almost everyone does. It's part of her glamourie."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just so long as you don't go all calf-eyed, Malfoy."

"Me?" Draco looked very innocent. "Lady Bookworm, don't you know true love defeats fae Glamour every time?"

Hermione looked skeptical. "Is that true, Nesmay?"

Titania's granddaughter nodded. "Oh, yes. Love is one of the most powerful emotions, and a strong emotional attachment will shred a glamourie and render it powerless."

"See?" Draco said smugly.

"You're lucky I love you, Malfoy," Hermione whispered. Then she focused upon the two couples.

They were forming a square, a dance the fae had learned from mortals called a cotillion. Most dances the fae preferred had mortal origins, though the fae generally added their own flares and moves. The fae loved to dance, and used any excuse to dance often. Their natural grace and uncanny sense of rhythm and timing made them more than a match for even a mortal dance master. In the court, it was consider a mark of good breeding for a lady or lord to dance well, and dance competitions were often held between nobles to see who could dance the most complicated dance, dance the longest, or fastest.

Now, Severus was no dance master, but he had learned the court dances as part of his education as the Prince heir, and could do the steps adequately. Titania glided about him, measured and calm, and then they switched partners, with Severus now dancing with Julianna and Sarai with Titania. They formed a delicate figure, stepping and turning about each other, following the beats of the music, and leaving silver sparkles in their wake as they tread about the floor.

They switched partners two more times before ending the dance where they had started. Everyone applauded, and Severus bowed to Titania and the two women curtseyed before the queen left the floor. Julianna followed, for the next dance, a waltz, belonged to the bride and groom.

Sarai gazed up into the eyes of her tall husband and gave him a rare smile. By nature she was serious, as was he, and yet she found that just looking at him made her smile, made her giggle like some giddy schoolgirl, though she was long past the age for that behavior. "Our dance, beloved. Are you ready?"

"For the waltz or this marriage?" he asked, teasingly.

"Both."

In answer, he placed an arm about her waist and spun away with her across the floor. They made an incongruous pair, the petite half-fae warrior and the tall half-blood sorcerer, yet somehow they fit together. Those watching marveled at how well they matched, and all could feel their magics entwine, bound together forevermore by vows of love and fidelity.

There was a glow about them, a look of utter joy in the former Captain's eyes and a light upon the face of the solemn Potions Master that made one stop and stare. To the fae, whose long lives often made them capricious and bored with one partner, a true love match was rare. Even rarer was the fact that Severus and Sarai had been apart for so many years before finally being able to tie the knot, demonstrating a depth of devotion and faithfulness that was often lacking in fae marriages. So this was a marriage to be celebrated and remembered, and would be talked about for years to come.

"They make a beautiful couple," Katie murmured to Harry, dabbing her eyes with a napkin.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, they do." Then he asked, "Uh, Katie, why are you crying?"

"Can't help it," she sniffled. "I always cry at weddings."

"Why?"

She shook her head. "Never mind. You're a boy, you wouldn't understand."

Harry exchanged glances with his brother. "Do you get it, Draco?"

Draco assumed a lofty expression. "Of course I do. Girls are naturally more emotional than boys, they relate more deeply to this sort of thing. They look at Dad and Sarai and imagine themselves out there dancing like that one day—"

"Why, Draco, that's amazing!" exclaimed Hermione.

"—and they get all weepy eyed and snivelly and ruin their make-up," finished the other with a snort and an eye roll. "That's why you always need to carry an extra handkerchief and it's also why girls are always in the bathroom forever. Oww! Hey, what was that for?" He glared at Hermione.

"And here I thought you actually understood romance!" snapped his girlfriend. "I should have known better."

"What? What did I say? Who was talking about romance? I was telling the truth!"

"Never mind!" Hermione scowled, turning around and nibbling on a handful of sugared nuts in a crystal bowl that had been placed in front of her plate.

"Big brother, sometimes you're dumb as a stump," Nesmay put in, shaking her head.

"Aww, shut up, Nessie! Who asked you?"

"Just saying. You'd better apologize quick, or else you'll be left standing by the wall instead of dancing tonight." The girl advised.

"Apologize? For what?"

"You're so smart, you figure it out," Nesmay replied cheekily.

The band struck up a quick tune. The fae girl looked at Ron and grinned. "Oh, a reel! Come on, Ron! This is a tune I actually know the steps to, because there aren't too many of them." She grabbed the startled Gryffindor's hand and pulled him out of his chair.

"But . . . but . . . Nesmay, I don't know how to dance to this," he stammered.

Nesmay ignored him, cheerfully dragging him along in her wake. "It's easy! Just follow along with me."

Other couples had now come out onto the floor and formed three large circles. Nesmay joined one with her uncle, Balin, and several other cousins. Ron blinked, clutching Nesmay's hand like a lifeline. His other was clasped by a pretty golden-haired fae lady in a swirling seafoam dress that . . . revealed a good deal of her bosom. _Whoa! She's really . . . err. . .stacked! _Ron quickly tore his eyes away, swallowing hard. The last thing he needed was to offend one of the nobles and end up in a duel.

The music's tempo increased, and suddenly he found himself spinning about in a circle, rather like the skipping games he used to play with the twins and Ginny when he was small. Faster and faster they twirled, until they separated and he found himself facing Nesmay, who was grinning and stamping her feet, back and forth and then kicking them up.

"Look! Like this, Ron! See? One, two, three, and four!" On four she kicked her left foot, and then the right. Then she brought her heels together with the toes pointed out, stepped back, forward, and kicked out again.

Ron did his best to imitate her, finding that it really wasn't hard. "I . . . I'm doing it!"

"See? It's easy!" Nesmay laughed, then she took his arm and they began to skip in a circle. "Right, then left, now join together!"

They moved to the right, then left, and then joined back up with the others, making one large circle again. Ron was panting, for the reel was fast paced, but he hadn't stepped on Nesmay's feet yet or tripped over his own. He knew he had a goofy grin plastered over his face, but he didn't care. He was actually having fun and he didn't feel like a clumsy idiot.

They separated again, and he tried to match Nesmay's flying feet. "Thought you told me you couldn't dance!" he gasped. "Was that a fib?"

"Not really. I can't dance any of the normal court dances, like the minuet and the waltz. I step on my partner's feet. But reels I can do, they're fun!"

"You can say that again!" The skirling music was in his blood now, and he followed the beat of the music without conscious thought.

Suddenly, the tune changed into something a bit more stately and slow. Ron faltered. "Oh, no! What do I do?" he cried, panicking.

He felt his arm clasped by the blond fae woman that had danced in a circle with him. "Relax, handsome! The gavotte is not quite as hard as you think."

Before Ron could protest, he was whirled away by the fae lady into the mix of dancers. "Nesmay!" he called.

"Oh, don't worry about her! She's barely out of leading strings, darling! Let an expert show you how it's done." His partner smirked, then her arms tightened about him and he couldn't find any breath to say anything.

Colorful silks and glittering trains swirled over and around them, but Ron barely paid attention to the array of garments. He had eyes only for the lovely lady, who led him in a gliding spinning motion all across the floor. His head was whirling and he was drunk on the sensations and scent of merlinna blossoms in the lady's hair. He felt energized and thrillingly alive and he never wanted the dance to end.

But it did and as they came to a halt, he spotted Nesmay nearby, dancing with her royal uncle Balin. He waved at her, but then felt two slender hands cup his face and pull him about.

"You dance quite well for a mortal!" his lady giggled, her emerald eyes sparkling. "We shall have to do it again sometime, eh?"

"Uh . . . sure! Err . . . I'm Ron Weasley."

"My name is Tirala of the House of Whitestorm," she said. Then she bent and kissed him gently on the mouth. "Till we meet again, firehair!"

Then she gently withdrew and glided across the floor to speak to another member of the court.

Ron was gaping like a landed fish. "She . . . kissed me! Wow!" he murmured. Nesmay came up and touched his shoulder.

"Ron? Are you all right?"

"Huh? Oh . . . yeah . . . perfect . . .She kissed me!"

"Who, Tirala? She's a tramp," Nesmay snorted.

"Yeah . . . but Merlin!" sighed Ron dreamily, staring after the sea-gowned fae.

Nesmay groaned. "Bright Lady save me!" She gave the lovestruck redhead and cuff on the ear. "Wake up! She's part siren, she'll as soon drown you in your sleep as kiss you."

"She . . . would? But she seemed so . . . nice."

"When she wants to be, sure. But don't be fooled, Weasley. Sometimes a pretty face can hide a fickle heart. Or so Uncle Balin always says, and he ought to know, since he's broken his share of maiden's hearts himself." She tugged Ron off the floor. "C'mon, we'd better sit this one out, it's a slow one, and my feet are killing me in these bloody slippers."

As soon as they returned to the table, Nesmay kicked off her detested court slippers and massaged her feet. Harry and Katie were the only ones at the table, everyone else was on the dance floor, including Draco and Hermione.

Ron eyed the Slytherin and the Gryffindor in astonishment. "They're dancing? After how mad she was at him?"

"He finally apologized to her for being an insensitive beast," chuckled Katie. "Now he's remembered his manners, and she forgave him."

Draco was gently swaying back and forth, holding Hermione close and murmuring something.

"Humph! She gave in too easily. She should've made him sweat a bit more," Nesmay commented.

"Hey! Be nice!" Harry ordered.

Nesmay stuck her tongue out at him. "Highstars don't suffer fools lightly, my Lord Snape."

"Good thing he's not one then," Katie smiled, then drew him to his feet. "Come on, love, let's take a turn about the floor."

"B-But Katie . . . I . . . err . . ."

"Now, Harry, don't even try to tell me you can't dance. You and I danced at the ball, remember? And you're a Snape, and naturally graceful." She told him, leading him onto the floor.

While Ron and Nesmay were resting, some fae servers came along with platters of desserts. There were cream cakes and puddings, tiny fruit tarts, cream puffs and sherberts, biscuits and pies of all kinds. There was a gigantic marzipan and sugar subtlety of Prince Manor, with Severus, Sarai, Harry, Draco, and Nesmay figurines standing before the manor. It was a work of art, and yet everything about it was edible. Each guest was given a small slice. Tea and coffee were served as well as thick chocolate milkshakes, for the fae had a weakness for mortal sweets.

Ron happily filled his plate with all kinds of sweets and dug in. "Mmm . . .Nesmay . . . . this is like the best wedding ever!"

"It's the only wedding I've ever been at," she admitted, eating a slice of strawberry chocolate torte. "Uh . . . you have cream on your nose."

Ron blushed, then wiped it off. His mum would have been appalled at his lack of manners, so he was glad she wasn't here and only Nesmay was, who seemed to enjoy dessert as much as he did.

Soon the others returned to the table and after dessert they all danced the jeweled silver coin dance, where anyone who wished had to pay a forfeit of a jeweled silver coin to dance with the bride. They were all given a small pile of coins, which were standard fae currency, and everyone went and placed them into a small embroidered bag at Sarai's waist. The coins were meant to ensure prosperity and friendship in the new couple's marriage.

After that, most of the fae brought gifts for the new couple, some of which were set upon a long table, but others which were presented in person. Severus and Sarai sat in chairs in the middle of the floor as the guests formed a line and each gift was presented. Some were standard magical items, like a swansdown Cloak of Seasons, meant to keep the wearer warm, cool, or dry in all kinds of weather. There were Boots of Swiftness and a Bag of Holding. There were practical gifts of hand embroidered tapestries and rugs, as well as a Carafe of Endless Drinks, which would refill itself with whatever drink the holder requested however many times he wished. The only exception to this rule was that the holder could not request alcoholic beverages if they were underage. There were magical pots that could make soup on request and platters that would keep food hot or cold for hours. They received all kinds of potions and elixirs and salves for healing and other things. Severus received several cauldrons as well as cauldron stirrers.

One ancient-looking fae lady wearing a dress that had been in style back in the Elizabethan era, her hair snow white and very faint wrinkles at the corner of her eyes approached. She carried a beautifully carved wooden cane with a unicorn head, and a long package was slung across her back. Her brilliant amber eyes were filmy and it soon became apparent that the fae woman was blind, or nearly so. Since such maladies did not touch the fae until they were very ancient, Severus was sure she must be over a millennium old. "Who is that?" he whispered out of the corner of his mouth to his wife.

Sarai turned from handing Harry a small silver cauldron, he and Draco were writing down each gift and whom it was from, and looked at the ancient woman. "Sun and Stars! That's Lirael, the Ancient One! She is the oldest of all the Seelie Court and she is almost never seen outside her keep any more."

"Just how old is she?"

"No one really knows exactly, even she herself has forgotten, for the fae don't really keep close track of years like mortals. But she is at least a thousand years old, perhaps a century or two more. It is said that she taught your famous wizard Merlin when he was a child, and she was old then. She was once a great sorceress and teacher of nearly all our mages at one time. It is said that she has forgotten more magic than most mages today ever learned. But she stopped taking pupils long ago, before I was born. That she has come to the wedding . . . she was invited, but I never thought she would come . . .it is a great honor."

Lirael tapped her way up in front of them, then halted. Her face lifted to peer up at them. She lifted a sparkling monocle from about her neck and held it up to her right eye. "Well met, young Sarai! A shimmerling delivered yer invitation but I fear I forgot about it till now." She cocked her head and gave Sarai and Severus a worn smile. "My memory . . . isn't what it used to be, my girl."

"Ancient One, it is we who are honored by your presence," Sarai said respectfully. She started to rise, but the ancient fae waved her back to her seat.

"Sit down, sit down, Captain. If age garners respect, then keep breathing in and out and ye shall have as much as I . . . someday. This is yer day, and what a wonderful day it is! I have waited long and long for a union such as this. . . . I wish ye joy of it. 'Tis said that yer new husband is a peerless Potions Master. About time someone at this court is bringing back that old art . . . it's long been neglected here. The court needs new blood . . .and I hear that those mortals are quite lusty in the bedroom too!" She gave a wicked chuckle. Then she turned to look at Severus. "Aye, he's a looker, he is! I'll wager those pretty hands of his are good for more than stirrin' a cauldron!" She squinted through the eyepiece and said, "Laddie, what be yer name?"

"Severus Snape, milady. I am the Heir to Prince Manor." He inclined his head to her, suppressing a fierce blush by the slimmest of margins.

She extended her hand and clasped his. "Well met, laddie buck!" She released his hand and flipped it over, scrutinizing it. "Ahh . . . as I thought. Strong hands . . . strong and filled with life . . .and Power, aye . . .were I five hundred years younger, lass, I might fight ye for him . . ." She gave Severus' hands a proprietary pat before saying, "Ah, but I see that yer heart belongs only to the lass here, aye? That is well." She cleared her throat. "Once I too was mistress of a cauldron, back when the Art of Potions was new and filled with mystery, an art mastered only by the most dedicated and brilliant . . .From one Craftmistress to another . . .I give ye this, young Severus." She reached behind her and pulled the long package from her shoulders.

Severus took it reverently and opened it. Upon his palms was a four foot cauldron stirrer, simply carved of golden wizardwood. It fairly vibrated with magical energy. "Milady . . .is this what I think it is?"

"If ye be thinking it's a Stirrer of Efficacy, laddie, ye'd be right!" cackled the Potions Mistress. "Put that in yer cauldron and give it three stirs clockwise an' three counterclockwise and it'll triple the potency of any brew. Hee hee! Leave it to steep in yer brew an' it'll increase the volume by three as well."

"This is a most magnificent gift," Severus said, stroking the golden wood. "I had thought they were all lost."

"Well . . . they were, in a manner of speaking. Ten were carved by a student o' mine, this one is the last left. Now 'tis yours, laddie. An happen ye have more than enough stirrers, young Severus, it can double as a stick to whack eejit colleagues or naughty children with, aye?"

"He's already got one of those, and he knows how to use it," Harry blurted out, then he turned red when the gathered fae began to snicker at his blunt honesty.

Lirael turned her head and winked at him. "Indeed, boy? Then best ye mind ye never give him cause to use it."

"I do, milady," Harry hastened to reply.

"Yer son, young Severus?"

"Yes, Ancient One. My son, Harry Albus Snape, the Heir Apparent."

"He'll do ye proud." She nodded firmly. "And for ye, young Sarai, my blessing and good wishes for ye an' yer family for as long as the stars hang in the sky." She lifted her cane and waved it about in a strange pattern. Magic glowed in the air and then settled over the warrior and her husband in a swath of golden sparks. "Fare thee well!"

With that, Lirael vanished, gone as quickly as she had come, leaving the assembled fae with something to gossip about for a long time, especially those of Oberon's faction, who had been sneering and whispering behind their hands at the half-blood groom and his mortal guests all night long.

**PageBreak**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***PageBreak**

By one in the morning, the party had started to wind down, and Harry and his friends were dozing in their chairs, stuffed full of sweets and milkshakes. Severus and Sarai had finished their last dance and were ready to return to Prince Manor. Princess Morgana opened a Portal to the manor, and she and her brothers assisted the bride and groom with bringing the sleepy teenagers through and Transfiguring their clothes into sleepwear. Once all of them were settled in their beds, Severus and his bride retired to their own.

When he would have banished their clothes, Sarai halted him with a gesture. "No magic tonight, Severus love. I know we've done this before, but tonight . . .tonight let us go back to the first time."

"When I was a fumble-fingered dolt?" Severus asked, with a faint disparaging note in his voice.

"Sev! Bright Lady, you were never that! Inexperienced, but never clumsy," she laughed. Then she turned her back to him. "Would you mind undoing these?"

He set his fingers to the row of pearl buttons and undid them all as rapidly as he could. Then he slipped the gorgeous gown off her shoulders, where it lay in a puddle of silk and velvet about her feet. He breathed in sharply, once, twice, then his hands began to glide gently over her shoulders and down her back. He felt her quiver as desire spiraled through her.

"Severus!" she murmured. Lirael had been utterly right when she had complimented his hands, those slender long-fingered hands that could bring her to a fever pitch of arousal with the merest brush against her skin. She shut her eyes. She had danced this dance before, and had never been disappointed with his lovemaking, even that first awkward time, when they had been just learning each other's bodies. Now she leaned back into his embrace, exhaling slowly, reveling in the fire that he coaxed from deep within with his fingers.

Severus ran his hands down her slender length, cupping her breasts gently, teasingly. He paused, his breath tickling her ear, and murmured, "How's that?"

She made a soft growl of assent, something that sounded like "More".

His hands dipped lower, curving about her muscular hips and firm bottom, while he lowered his mouth and began to kiss her neck, dozens of kisses, that etched a trail of fire down her. His own passion was surging through him, and he struggled to control it. "It's been too long . . ." he said huskily. But he forced himself to go slowly. They had all night after all and he wanted to give her pleasure before taking his own.

His hands paused, rubbing gently against a ridged scar upon her thigh, legacy of a knife thrust. "My beautiful warrior."

"You mean your scarred warrior," she reminded. She had no illusions about her body. The battles she had fought and won were branded in her skin, never to be forgotten.

"They are badges of honor," he whispered. "And I love you no less because of them. After all, I have my own share."

"I know. But sometimes . . .I wish I had chosen a different profession. Soldiering has made me old before my time, I fear. I wish I had known you long before, when I was truly innocent and my skin did not bear the map of war upon it. Like the way your Lily knew you."

He was startled, having never seen this side of her, she had always been the more self-confident, or so he had thought. He gently turned her to face him. "Sarai . . . when I knew Lily, I was barely an adult myself, and in any case that is all past. She was the love of my youth, a breath of spring, but you . . .you are my love for all seasons. I love you, Captain, precisely because you are scarred and imperfect. Just like me."

"Ah, Sev. Two battle-scarred warhorses, put out to pasture."

"I'll give you the first, but as for the second . . . I am far from retirement, and I shall prove it."

He captured her mouth, kissing her with infinite tenderness at first. Then he deepened it, until she gasped, entwining his fingers in her hair and pulling her close. He felt her tremble slightly as he drew back and said, "Let us forget what has been before. Tonight belongs to us, here and now, and that is all that matters."

She stared up into his eyes and suddenly all of her doubts vanished subsumed by the ancient desire and love she saw reflected in his eyes. She shook her head. "Pay me no mind, love. I am being foolish. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"I do. The same thing that's wrong with me. For so long we have had to snatch our pleasure when and where we could, for we never knew when duty would summon us away. We learned to live in the moment. But now . . . now we can take our time . . . and learn all over again what we thought we knew . . . and it's frightening, because we keep expecting it to be taken away. But it won't be. Not ever again. I have all the time I need . . . to memorize every inch of you . . . over and over . . ."

His fingers resumed their leisurely caresses and his mouth followed suit, as he put into play all he had learned during their years together, showing without words just how much he loved her, all of her. Her self-control splintered and she cried out.

Her nails scrabbled at his shoulders. "You're still wearing clothes, damn it!" she hissed.

He arched an eyebrow. "Take them off then."

She did, ripping off several buttons in the process. Then she slowed, perusing him leisurely, running her eyes and her fingers over him. But her impatience got the better of her and she pulled him down on the bed, where she could explore him at her leisure. Oddly enough, it felt as if she was doing this for the first time, and in a way she was. Soon she had him at the verge of his control, torturing him by inches with her sweet lips and strong callused hands.

It lent a feeling of poignancy to their lovemaking, and when at last they finally came together, it was with a wild gentleness that left them breathless and sated, with all doubts behind them.

She rested her head upon his shoulder, her curly hair fanning out on the pillow. "Not bad, eh, for two retired warhorses?"

He propped himself on his elbow and gazed down at her, giving her a smirk. "Why, Sarai . . .you ought to know this old horse is just getting started."

She laughed. "Good. Because the night is young, Severus mine. And the old war mare has a few good rides left."

She rolled over and he pulled her down on top of him.

**PageBreak** ~*~*~*~*~*~***PageBreak**

The third time left both of them in a hazy afterglow, satisfied and sleepy, curled in each other's arms. Severus' eyes were at half-mast, as he smiled drowsily at his wife. His wife. A part of him still marveled at that. After all the years of worrying and waiting, of dreaming and hoping, of longing and fearing, she was his own at last. Now they could begin to live the life he had always wished he could, back before Voldemort, before his days as a secret agent, when all he'd ever wanted was to perfect his brewing and have a wife and a family who loved him. Such a simple dream, but it was a dream that had eluded him for over fourteen years. Until now.

"Sev?" his wife yawned. "Is something wrong? You're not sleeping."

"I'm not quite ready for sleep. I'm just . . .musing on the incredible fact that I'm finally able to call you my wife. There were times . . . so many times . . . that I feared it would never be. That I would come here and wait and you would never come back . . . That you would have been cut down defending the queen or the young prince and once again I would be alone."

"I know." She snuggled closer to him. "I was afraid too, that you would be killed or broken beyond repair as you spied upon that hellspawn Voldemort. And there would have been nothing I could do to prevent it. Sometimes . . . sometimes I used to wake screaming . . . you died a dozen horrible ways in my dreams . . . and each time I feared it was a vision and not a nightmare. I hated the fact that I couldn't be with you, that my oath to Titania bound me to the land and my kindred, but I also knew that I could not repudiate it. Not and still keep my honor. It was a double-edged sword and I cut myself till I bled upon it."

"As did I. But somehow we survived, mostly by being too bloody stubborn to lie down and die. And now we have each other, and the children, and time to spare if I use the timeclock."

"You would bend time for me?" she repeated. "I thought that was only to be used in dire need."

"It depends on the heir. The timeclock can be used twelve times by the current heir and then it passes to the Heir Apparent. I have used it twice so far. I planned on using it again so the boys and Nesmay could recover from Jarillion's treatment. And so we could spend time with them as well. We all need time, Sarai. To heal and to grow as a family. To me, that's worth using the timeclock."

"You're right. I need time to accustom myself to being a mother. I hope I'm not too terrible at it. I'm used to commanding soldiers in battle, not children."

"You'll get used to it. You can't be any worse than I was a year ago when I first brought Harry to the manor. I lost my temper with him so badly I caused him to have a flashback from his time with bloody Vernon Dursley."

"Over the summerdew?"

"Yes," Severus grimaced. "I've made plenty of mistakes, Sarai. With all of them. But there's no such thing as a perfect parent. Or children. And my boys can drive a saint up a wall sometimes. So can Nesmay. It's a challenge."

"But you love it."

"Some days, yes. Other days I wonder what the hell I was thinking attempting to raise two hellions and the daughter of my worst enemy. But then I'll look at Harry and see how much he reminds me of Lily, or Draco and remember how he nearly went dark, or Nesmay, whose temper rivals my own, and I'll remember that they need me and suddenly it's all worthwhile. Every last aggravating minute."

He kissed the top of her forehead. "You'll see. Together we'll muddle through, Sarai." Then he yawned. "Good night, love."

"Good night, Sev," she kissed him back. Her last thought before she followed him into realm of dreams was that the Ancient One had been right. Her Potions Master really _did _have the most amazing hands and they could do so much more than stir a cauldron.

**Next: More family bonding, plus an unexpected request from Ron and some startling news.**


	65. Hijinks at the Burrow

**65**

**Hijinks at the Burrow**

**A/N: This is a very long chapter, hope you all enjoy it!**

Harry and Ron woke to the aroma of bacon frying and sprang out of bed, their mouths watering. Harry glanced at the clock and saw that it was still early, about eight o'clock in the morning. He yawned and ran a hand through his hair, despite its silkiness, it tended to get tangled and he had to use charms sometimes to get it unknotted. Severus had advised him to use a special hair tonic to keep it tangle-free, but right then he was too hungry to be bothered with it.

"Harry, that smells divine!" murmured Ron.

"I don't know how I can be hungry after eating all that food last night, but I am," his friend laughed.

"Me neither. Which way's the kitchen?"

"Follow me." Harry led the way to the kitchen, where he found Draco at the stove, an apron about his waist, frying bacon, sausage, and Hermione was making waffles. Katie was watching the toast, and Nesmay had just finished squeezing fresh merlinna juice into a large cold-charmed pitcher.

"Merlinna juice!" Harry exclaimed upon seeing his sister. "I was going to pick some this morning but I was so tired . . ." He yawned.

Nesmay looked up, her fingers purple from the heart-shaped fruit, and smirked. "You're lucky you have a sister who's an early riser and likes you, Harry." She had a few stains on her lavender nightgown as well, and her spiked hair made her look very much like the hedgehog princess Severus nicknamed her.

"You're the best, Nesmay," Harry grinned. "Pour me some?"

Nesmay waved her kingwood wand and the pitcher promptly poured a full glass of juice. "Enough? Or should I just give you the pitcher?"

Draco sniggered at that. His brother's fondness for merlinnas in any form was a well-known fact at Prince Manor.

Ron gaped at the fact that Draco was actually cooking, and like a Muggle too! "Am I dreaming? Because I have to, since that's the only way I'd see a Malfoy cooking."

Draco glanced behind him, frowning. "What's that supposed to mean? You saying I can't cook?"

"No, I'm saying I can't believe you know how. Thought all you Old Families had house elves for that kind of thing." Ron answered.

"We did. But here my father insists we learn how to fend for ourselves," Draco replied, flipping the sausages. "The Princes never had house elves, because they're part fae themselves. It'd be like keeping your cousin in bondage."

"House elf slavery should be abolished," Hermione declared firmly, sliding a waffle onto a plate.

"We're working on that," Draco said quickly.

"Dad and I taught Draco how to cook," Harry put in, drinking his juice with a happy sigh. "But I can't believe you got your arse out of bed without somebody screaming in your ear to wake up, Dragon. Usually he sleeps till noon."

"Liar. Since when has Dad ever let me sleep that late?" Draco snorted. "Unless I was deathly ill, he has all of us up before nine."

"So why _are_ you up this early, Draco?" asked Katie, buttering several squares of toast.

"Well, since it's Dad and Sarai's wedding morning, I figured maybe they'd like breakfast in bed," the Slytherin murmured, flushing. "I told Smidgen to wake me, and she did."

As if her name had summoned her, the dainty black and turquoise winged shimmerling appeared on the table. Her violet eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and she began to groom herself lazily. Only her damaged wing marred her gracefulness. _:Well met, children! I trust you all had a good time at the fairy revel?:_

"We did." Harry said. "But . . . weren't you there, Smidgen?"

The shimmerling looked up at him. _:For a short time, yes. I was there for the ceremony, of course. But I cannot fly and participate in the games of my kin with my damaged wing, so I left early.:_

"Oh. That's too bad!" Hermione said, giving the winged cat a pitying look. "It must be hard, not being able to fly anymore."

Smidgen shrugged. _:It is what it is, child. My sacrifice was for a good cause, and I do not regret paying this price. Though sometimes I do miss the sky.:_

"I can take you flying later, Smidgen," offered Harry.

_:Thank you, Harry,:_ she sent, purring. _:But right now I'd rather have breakfast. Draco, do_ _you have a piece of that delicious bacon for me?:_

"Coming right up, Smidgen." The chef called, and he tossed her a half a piece, which she caught neatly in her mouth.

Harry went and filled her small saucer with milk and a drop of honey and set it before her.

The shimmerling sent her thanks and began to eat hungrily. She had met Ron, Hermione, and Katie before they attended the wedding.

Harry then looked over at Draco and said, somewhat bossily, "Draco, if you're making breakfast for Dad and Sarai, you'd better fry a couple of eggs too. You know how he likes them."

Draco sighed. "Harry, you know I can only do scrambled eggs. Every time I try and fry one I end up with it burnt."

"Move over, and let the expert cook," Harry ordered, gently shoving Draco out of the way, placing the cooked sausages and bacon on a platter and levitating it onto the table. Then he tugged out a clean frying pan, greased it with butter, and cracked four eggs into it. He deftly seasoned them with salt and pepper and then waited a few minutes before flipping them over.

"Harry, where'd you learn to cook like that?" Katie queried.

Her boyfriend gave her a lopsided grin. "It's a perk of my underprivileged childhood at Privet Drive. My uncle made me cook and clean for them, so I learned pretty quick how to make breakfast the way he liked it."

"They treated him like dirt," Draco growled.

"True, but at least I learned how to fry eggs," Harry remarked, sliding the now done eggs onto two plates.

Katie added the toast, Hermione the waffles on a separate plate. Draco put some bacon and sausage on each one, and Nesmay supplied the fresh juice and coffee, plus a small pitcher of syrup.

"All right, now who's going to bring it in to them?" asked the half-fae girl.

They all looked at each other uncomfortably. Finally Harry said, "Smidgen, would you mind going and seeing if they're . . . uh . . . awake and . . . err . . . decent? I wouldn't want to embarrass myself. My virgin eyes, you know."

Smidgen licked a dollop of milk off her paw. _:Of course, Harry. Wait here.:_ Then she blinked away.

She returned a few moments later. _:They were just waking and said to tell you that it's very thoughtful of you to make breakfast for them and Severus hopes you haven't burnt down the kitchen.:_

"Tell them it's a belated wedding present from all of us," Draco smirked. "And I hope they slept well!"

"_Draco_!" Hermione gasped.

"Wait, Smidgen! Leave out that last part, I don't want to end up doing the laundry by hand for the rest of the summer!" Draco quickly amended.

_:Cheeky brat!:_ the shimmerling sent, amused. _:Give them five minutes, Harry, then deliver their breakfast.:_

Harry nodded, his mouth twitching into a smile in response to his brother's outrageousness.

The others began to sit and eat, while Harry floated the tray down the hall and tapped on the door. "Err . . . Dad, you awake?"

"Come in, Harry."

Harry opened the door and found Severus, wearing his familiar green dressing robe, sitting up in bed. Sarai was also awake, wearing a silver and blue wrap.

"This was very sweet of you, Harry," she greeted, her eyes sparkling with amusement at the boy's sudden blush.

"Hi, Sarai. Uh . . . we all made something. Draco made the bacon and sausage, I made the eggs, Katie did the toast, Hermione the waffles, and Nesmay squeezed the juice."

"What did Ron do?" asked Severus curiously.

"Uh . . . he arranged everything on the tray. He can't cook and we didn't want him to try."

"I see. Very astute of you," Severus praised, smirking. "Thank you, Harry. We'll send this back to the kitchen when we're finished. Mind you clean up after yourselves."

"Don't worry, we will!" Harry assured him. He turned to leave, adding impudently over his shoulder, "Hope you slept well!"

"Why, you impudent—" his father began indignantly, while Sarai collapsed in laughter.

Harry nearly made it out the door before a wooden spoon popped out of the air and smacked his backside. "Ow! It was a joke, Dad!"

"Get, brat! Before your mouth gets you in more trouble." Severus ordered, his black eyes gleaming.

Harry went, muttering, "Draco said it first," before shutting the door. He headed back down to the kitchen to eat breakfast, rubbing his behind ruefully and regretting his impudent tongue.

Later, after they had all eaten and cleaned the kitchen, Harry showed Ron the orchard and gardens while Draco took Katie and Hermione over by the pond. Nesmay tagged along with Harry, as she much preferred the orchard. She gleefully climbed the trees and tossed down plums, peaches, and cherries for Ron to sample. Then she almost made him choke to death when she backflipped herself out of the cherry tree and landed neatly on the ground.

Harry swatted him helpfully on the back and glared at his sister. "You could have warned him, Nesmay! You want to kill him?"

Ron wiped his eyes with a sleeve. "Can't . . . believe . . . you just did that! Without a charm or . . . anything!"

Nesmay grinned mischievously. "I'm half-fae, silly Weasel. We all have the balance of cats, don't you know? I've climbed higher than this before."

"You're lucky Dad didn't catch you," Harry scolded. "Your arse would have been grounded like that." He snapped his fingers for emphasis.

"Why? For landing on my feet?"

"No, for scaring him to death."

Nesmay rolled her eyes. "Mortals! You worry too much."

"Brat!" Harry mock-cuffed the back of her head.

Ron sniggered, for the byplay reminded him of himself and Ginny. He abruptly changed the subject. "Uh, Harry? Where are your dad and stepmum going on their honeymoon?"

"Huh?"

"You know, usually once you get married, you go off somewhere with your new wife and . . . err . . .get to know her better. Like, my mum and dad went to Bordeaux in France. They drank a lot of wine and ate croissants and err . . . had a good time."

Harry's brow wrinkled. "I dunno. They never said. I think they'd as soon as stay home."

"Oh. Well . . . you know, Harry . . . it's been awhile since you've visited the Burrow and I was wondering if you'd like to come for a bit and stay. Malfoy and Nesmay too." He sighed. "I'd love to spend some more time here, but not with two newlyweds." He made a face.

"You know, Ron, that might not be a bad idea." Harry mused. "Why don't you ask Dad when he gets up?"

"Me?" Ron squeaked.

"Of course, you. It was your idea." Harry smirked.

"And if you ask, it'll seem like a nice gesture, but if Harry asks, it could seem like he wants to get out of doing chores or something," Nesmay added.

"She's right," Ron agreed.

Nesmay preened.

"Yeah, she's too smart for her own good," Harry added.

"All right. I'll ask him," Ron said. Then he asked Harry if he wanted to go flying, he had brought his broom just in case. "You can come too, Nesmay."

But the fae girl shook her head. "No, that's all right. I'll keep my feet on the ground." She didn't want to admit it, but that last flip had made her slightly dizzy, enough so she didn't feel like flying then.

She watched, perched in the fork of a peach tree, as the two boys looped and dove in the air, absently nibbling on a peach while the sweet juice dribbled down her chin.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~*Break**

An hour or two later, they all returned to the house, it was around eleven o'clock, and found Severus and Sarai in the lounge area, quietly examining all the bridal gifts and deciding where they should go and what needed to be put into storage.

"Now's your chance," Harry urged his friend. He gave Ron a gentle nudge.

The redhead swallowed a bit sharply, then supposed Snape looked as relaxed as he ever would be, and approached the couple.

"Hello, Ron," Sarai greeted, smiling up at the lanky boy.

Ron blushed and muttered hello, then just stood there.

"Was there something you needed to ask me, Weasley?" Severus queried.

"Uh, yes, sir. I . . . I was wondering if . . ." he opened his mouth to ask about Harry, Draco, and Nesmay coming to visit, but what came out instead was something utterly different, but no less important. " . . . the fae ever take apprentices? To . . . to learn their magics . . . I mean . . ."

"Sometimes, Ron," Sarai answered. "But fae magic differs from mortal magic, and usually the two are not compatible. Why do you ask?"

"I . . . I wanted to learn how to cast that Glamour spell." Ron stammered.

"Glamour is an art the fae have perfected over centuries," Severus put in. "I don't know if it's possible for a human wizard without fae blood in their ancestry to master it. Sarai, what do you think?"

The petite warrior was silent for a few minutes. "It _may_ be possible. But I am not sure. I would have to ask one of the mages. I am only half-fae, and though I can cast glamourie, it is not as effortless for me as for a full fae. As for being an apprentice, most of my people would be reluctant to tutor a mortal, because it would require you to stay within our kingdom for a long time. And some of them are . . . rather prejudiced against humans, believing them to be inferior. I am sorry, but I don't think what you wish is possible, unless I could find a mage willing to teach a mortal."

Ron's face fell. He had been hoping to be able to spend more time in the fae realm. "Well . . . I guess I could wait . . ."

"Perhaps when you finish school, we can ask around at court and see if someone would be willing to teach you," Severus said. He was pleased that one of his students was showing interest in another culture and people.

"Thank you. But there's something else . . ."

"Well, go on." Severus said impatiently.

Ron drew in a deep breath and blurted, "Would it be all right if Harry, Draco, and Nesmay comes to stay at the Burrow for a weekend or so? That way you two can have some . . . err . . . peace and quiet."

The Potion Master's eyebrows went up. "That's very generous of you, Ronald, but how would your parents feel about having three extra people in their home?"

"Oh, they won't mind," Ron said breezily. "I can Floo Mum if you want and you can ask her. But she told me before I left that it'd be grand if we could have Harry over again and if Harry goes, so should Draco and Nesmay. We have the room, sir, since Percy moved out, and the twins are usually staying with Zeke Zonko, they've apprenticed to him to learn about running a joke shop."

"I see." He looked over at his wife. "Sarai, should we let them go?"

"I see no harm in it, Sev. Let them have some fun. They've the rest of the summer here at the manor," she agreed, winking conspiratorially at her husband. As of yet, they had not told their sons or daughter about Severus' plan to use the time clock. "Besides, it'll be good to be alone for a few days."

"You're right. Very well, I shall speak to Molly, and if she agrees, they can all go, Ronald."

"Thanks, Professor! I'll Floo her right now."

**Page~*~*~*~*~*Break**

Molly was quite happy to agree, saying that Severus needed time with his new wife, and she would be happy to take the kids off his hands for four days. "I don't mind at all, Severus. My home feels empty now, with Percy gone and the twins are more often away than not, so it's just Arthur and me and Ginny and Ron. What's three more?"

"You are most kind, Molly. I have told them they are to be on their best behavior, but I am giving you permission to punish them if they misbehave, like you would you own."

"Oh, I'm sure that won't be necessary, Severus. Harry was never any trouble when he spent the summer here before."

"Nevertheless . . ."

"I understand, Severus. Now, don't worry about a thing. You just have a nice interlude with your wife and tell her I said congratulations. Oh, and did Ron give you the gift . . . I hope you don't think I was too forward, sending you a _Cooking Spells For All Occasions_ and a magical baking set, but when I was a young bride, I couldn't cook to save my life and those really helped me . . ."

"Sarai says to tell you thanks very much, as she has very limited cooking skills herself," Severus informed the witch. "I shall bring the boys and Nesmay over this afternoon, say around two o'clock?"

"That would be fine, Severus. No rush. It'll give me and Ginny time to get the house in order. I'll see you later." Molly beamed.

Severus withdrew from the fire. "Harry, go and call Katie and Hermione, I have to bring them home before you all go to the Burrow. While I'm doing that, you should all be packing."

"Sure, Dad." Harry called, then ran out the back door. The other three were still down at the lake and had no idea what had just gone on.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~*Break**

After bidding his girlfriend goodbye and Hermione as well, unfortunately the girls had other obligations and couldn't come to the Burrow, Harry went to pack a few things in an overnight bag. He could hear Draco in the bathroom just down the hall, gathering his toothbrush and hair tonic. Ron lounged on Harry's bed, his hands behind his head, looking quite bored.

Ten minutes later, he was finished, and he met Draco in the den. The Slytherin had a rather large black and green duffel in his hand. Ron eyed the duffle and remarked, "Thinking about staying for a week, Malfoy?"

"No. But I never know what to pack, so . . ."

"Where's Nesmay?" Harry wondered, for the fae girl was nowhere in sight.

"She's a girl. They take _forever_ to pack anything," Ron told him knowingly.

Five minutes later, Nesmay came down the hall, her bag looked like she had stuffed her whole wardrobe of fae silks into it, it bulged at the seams. She was wearing a two piece outfit, a green and blue ensemble made of spidersilk, a midriff top which had ruffles about the sleeves and a skirt that just barely came down to her knees. Glittery sandals completed the outfit.

All three boys gaped at her.

Nesmay cocked her head, puzzled. "What's with you three? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"You're going to be a ghost if Dad ever catches you in that outfit," Draco predicted.

"Why? What's the matter with it?" Nesmay asked, looking at herself.

Before any of the boys could say anything, Severus walked in the den, having returned from Apparating the two girls home. Sarai was in the kitchen preparing lunch. "Are you all set—Great Merlin! Nesmayallindra what _are_ you wearing?"

"Clothes," she answered.

"Those are not clothes," refuted the Potions Master, frowning down at his ward. "That looks more like a costume that a . . . harem dancer would wear. You aren't wearing that to the Weasleys. Go and put on something more appropriate."

"What for? I like this outfit, Severus. It's comfortable," the girl argued.

"It doesn't cover you decently. Do you want Molly to have a coronary? Go and change."

"It's hot out," she groused.

Severus drew his wand and flicked it. Her skirt lengthened by several inches, till it fell past her knees to her ankles, and her top came down to mid-thigh. "Much better."

Nesmay glanced down and groaned. "Severus! I look like an old maid!" she wailed. Then she waved her wand and the skirt became short again and the top as well. "I like it like this."

Severus locked eyes with her. "I don't. No child of mine is going to leave my house wearing a skirt that shows half her backside."

"It doesn't!" she flared. "See? It's covered!" She turned about.

"You lean over and everyone and his brother will see your undergarments," snapped Severus. "And that top is too old for you. You're twelve, not seventeen."

Nesmay pouted. "Severus, I'm not a nun! Why should I dress like my grandmother? This is the fashion nowadays."

He put his hands on his hips. "Nesmayallindra, I could care less about fashion. Now go and change. I'm certain your grandmother would not approve of that outfit either."

"Only because she's like you, an old killjoy! There's nothing wrong with this top. Or do you think I'm ugly?"

"Neither. But it's too revealing for a child your age."

"I'm not a child! I'm almost thirteen!"

"Mind that tone, young lady. Last I checked, twelve and thirteen year olds were still children. Quit arguing and change. Or else you can stay home in your room for the day, Miss Insolence!"

"You're so unfair!"

"So is life. Well?" he fastened one of his particularly stern Snape glares upon her.

The stubborn child flinched, but stood her ground.

Severus longed to shake her. "Shall I count to ten?"

"What is going on out here?" Sarai asked, from the doorway of the kitchen.

"Ask _him_! _He_ started it!" Nesmay cried, pointing a finger at Severus.

"I merely told her to put on another outfit as that one is not something I shall permit her to wear to the Weasleys," Severus informed Sarai. "It is far too mature and revealing for a girl her age."

"Sarai, he's being a prison warden!"

"A _prison warden_?" Severus growled.

Sarai looked Nesmay up and down, then she looked at her husband, who looked as if he were going to snap, and made a swift decision. "Nesmay, come with me. I'll help you choose something that's not so . . .airy."

"I'm _not_ wearing a skirt down to my shoes, that's for dowdy court ladies!" the girl said mutinously. "_He_ wants me to dress like Gran!"

"He's also your guardian, child, and should be spoken to with respect," Sarai scolded. "Where are your clothes?"

"In there." Nesmay indicated her bag.

Sarai's eyebrows rose. "All of them? Sun and Stars, Nesmay! Has no one ever taught you how to pack for a trip?"

"No."

"Come, let me see if I can sort this out." Sarai picked up the bag and tossed it over her shoulder. "Blazes, girl, one would think you were staying a month, not a few days!" She turned to call over a shoulder, "Severus, breathe. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Sarai, make certain that her clothing isn't going to turn every boy's head in a five kilometer radius," interjected her husband.

"You see? He's totally overreacting!" Nesmay protested, as Sarai led her back down the hall.

"He's a man, little one. They all overreact with their daughters," the warrior chuckled. Then she led Nesmay away, murmuring, "Child, one thing you need to learn is how to compromise, he'll usually see reason if you're willing to give him an inch . . .Defiance won't get you anything except trouble . . ." She paused and looked back at her fuming husband. "Relax, Snape! I have it under control."

"That's what _you_ think!" Severus muttered under his breath. "And I have _how_ many more years until she grows up?"

Draco and Harry snickered, unable to help themselves. Severus spun on them.

"Don't say anything, either of you!"

Both his sons tried to look utterly disinterested and innocent. Ron carefully looked into the fireplace, clamping his mouth shut so no giggles would escape. He was amazed at Nesmay's daring to answer his most feared professor back to his face like that. He was also giggling silently because Snape's reaction reminded him of his own father's when Ginny had wanted to wear a mini skirt and tank top on holiday to the beach when she was ten. There had been an awful row and Ginny had stomped out of the room in tears, saying Arthur was an anachronism. Who would have thought Severus Snape would have the same problem with _his_ daughter?

**Page~*~*~*~*~*Break**

Sarai managed to get Nesmay sorted out and packed again, this time making sure that she wasn't wearing clothes that caused her overprotective father to go into fire-breathing dragon mode. Nesmay now had on a pair of silky green pants and a short-sleeved shirt with a silver dragon on it, plus her sandals. Sarai had explained that customs in the mortal world regarding women's clothing was a bit more sedate than those in the fae court, and that a lot of the wizarding world lived by old-fashioned standards. So Nesmay, like Sarai, would simply have to learn to adapt to it.

Hearing the older woman admit that she, too, often had a problem with mortal fashions made Nesmay bristle a bit less and quit regarding Severus like an ogre. "He's behaving like a normal father of a girl, Nesmay," she told the girl. "Now, you wouldn't know that, seeing as you never had an adult man in your life, but he's not acting any differently than mine did when I was your age. He loves you, child, and he wants to protect you, and sometimes he comes off sounding a bit . . . overbearing. No father wants to see their daughter grow up, and even though Sev's coming into this rather late, he still feels the same as any other father."

"Did yours want you to dress like a reject from an old maid's club too?"

"Oh, yes! And while I was living at home, I forced myself into dresses and skirts, but when I was at court, I wore breeches and tunics like every other Blade. My father didn't precisely approve of my occupation, but he learned to accept it eventually." Sarai chuckled. "Come, we're ready, and Severus is waiting."

Severus had removed the scramble charms over the fireplace so the children could Floo to the Burrow, that being the quickest and easiest method for them all to get to the same destination without creating a Port Key. "Now mind you all behave when you're at the Burrow," he lectured his children one last time. "I've given Molly and Arthur my permission to discipline you if you step out of line. But their punishment won't be anything compared to what you'll face if I hear of any misconduct. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." They chorused.

"Have a good time." He said, then hugged all of them before sending them through the fire.

Nesmay lingered a bit in his embrace before following her brothers. "I'm sorry, Severus, for my smart mouth."

"I forgive you. Now go, and for the love of Merlin, Nesmay, try and stay out of trouble." He released her rather reluctantly, watching closely until she vanished through the green flames.

"She'll be fine, Severus. I'm certain the Weasleys will take good care of her, she'll survive."

"Yes, but will the Weasleys survive her?" Severus asked, then stepped away from the fireplace and into his wife's embrace.

Harry found the Burrow just as cozy and crowded with furniture and knickknacks as he remembered it from staying over the summer before his second year. Molly greeted them all cordially and then told Ron to show Harry and Draco where they could put their things. "We've expanded the loft a bit, Harry dear, since the last time you were over. Ginny, you and Nesmay will be sharing your room, of course. I hope you don't mind, dear?"

"No, ma'am. That will be fine." Nesmay answered, thinking that this would be the first time she had ever done so, and it would be interesting.

"Oh, just call me Molly, or Mrs. Weasley." Molly told her. "It is an honor to have you in my home, Princess. Severus told me you are the granddaughter of the Queen of the Faeries, is that so?"

"Yes. I'm the granddaughter of Titania of the Seelie Court," explained Nesmay, though she was careful not to reveal any more than that about her heritage. She had been warned by Severus that her being the daughter of Tom Riddle would not be received well by the wizarding community, as he had been the most hated wizard in Britian. Nesmay was just as happy to forget she was related to the dark wizard.

"My room is this way, Nesmay," Ginny beckoned her up a long spiral staircase. "What's it like to live in an actual palace?"

"It's like any other home, except it's huge and easier to get lost in it," Nesmay answered candidly. "And I didn't live in a palace all the time. I grew up on a small estate . . ."

Draco glanced about the rather cluttered living area before following Ron upstairs. The house was smaller than what he was used to, and Narcissa would not have been caught dead in it, but it was clean and . . . comfortable, in a rather odd sort of way. He supposed it reflected the character of its owners, for the Weasleys were as down-to-earth as you could get. Of course, he preferred Prince Manor over any other residence, including Malfoy Manor, but the Burrow was not the shack he had always imagined it to be. He recalled all the times he had twitted Ron about living in a one room shack in the wilderness and felt like an idiot. Severus would have had his hide for it, he reflected, recalling that Snape's old house at Spinner's End hadn't been much bigger than this.

The loft that Ron showed them was almost the size of the entire house, and had three large windows overlooking the back gardens and wheat field. Ron explained that their neighbor was a Muggle farmer and grew acres of wheat, some of which happened to spill over onto the Weasley land, but they didn't mind, as Molly helped herself to it for cooking. As a consequence, the Weasleys ate a lot of wheat bread.

It was portioned into a combination of a sitting room and two bedrooms, one of which belonged to the twins and the other was Ron's. There was a large comfy plaid couch and small table with lamps. A chess board was set up on the table, the pieces were dozing. Several magazines were stacked on one end, most of these were catalogues of joke products and potions magazines. Those had been used extensively by the twins in their magical experiments.

In the twins' room were two beds, each made up with identical orange and blue blankets, pillows, and had matching canopies on them. There were two dressers a large closet and two desks, plus a long nightstand inbetween the beds. The walls were decorated with Quidditch posters of famous players and also different photos of potions and elixirs. When Harry went to set his _Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ on the nightstand, he usually read at night before bed, he found a piece of parchment sticking out of the drawer. Opening it, he found it was a letter, written by none other than Professor Snape.

Smoothing out the parchment, he began to read. It was a potions recipe.

_. . .fresh lizard skin is best, preferably from a young orange newt, you should crumble it fine and then add to your cauldron some powdered agate and a fresh honeycomb . . ._

"What's that you're reading, Harry?" Draco asked.

"Huh? Oh, just this old letter from Dad to the twins. It's part of a potions recipe." Harry started, feeling suddenly slightly guilty. "I never knew they wrote to him."

"All the time, Harry," said Ron. "They were always getting letters from him, that's why they were so good in potions. I think Mum got tired of them always exploding things and asked your dad to give them advice so our house didn't end up blown to bits."

That would explain a lot, Harry thought, though he wondered if Severus ever knew what the twins did with his advice. He tucked the parchment away and began to unpack his clothes.

Draco did the same with most of his, using a spell to shrink his duffel and stick it inside the closet.

Ron showed them the small bathroom down the hall, on the way they passed Arthur and Molly's room and at the far end was Ginny's room and Percy's. They could hear faint giggling coming from Ginny's room and Ginny exclaiming, "Dads are all alike, Nesmay. Mine did that to me once. They think if they wrap you in a winding sheet, no boy will notice you. Honestly! But I can't believe the professor lets you call him Severus."

"What else would I call him?" came Nesmay's reply. "That's his name."

"If she went to school, she'd be calling him "professor Snape" like the rest of us," Harry said.

"Isn't she going to?" Ron asked.

"Uh . . . I don't know yet. See, she has both kinds of magic, witch and fae, and that makes her have problems controlling it . . ."

"She blew up Ollivander's wand shop," Draco added.

"_What_? You mean, that's why it was closed for so long? Bloody _hell_!" Ron's eyes nearly bugged out.

Harry and Draco told Ron the whole story while sitting on the loft couch until Mrs. Weasley called them all down for lunch.

Lunch that day was thick ham, cheese, and pickle sandwiches on slices of hearty wheat bread with mayonnaise, plus fried chips. For a sweet there were mini treacle tarts, which were Harry's favorite, as Molly knew very well, and also apricot sandwich biscuits. The food was delicious and filling, and everyone praised Molly's cooking, which made the witch beam happily.

"Why don't you go out and de-gnome the garden, Ron?" suggested Molly after they were through eating. "I meant to do it earlier, but I lost track of time."

"All right, Mum. Harry, you'll help, right?"

Harry agreed, he had done that before, when he stayed at the Burrow over the summer.

"Don't you have a ward that keeps the gnomes from tunneling in?" asked Draco. No gnome would have dared set foot in the Malfoy gardens. Lucius had wards that would fry any intruder attempting to sneak onto the grounds.

"No. It's too much of a problem to keep renewing it, and Dad always said that's why he had kids," Ginny answered.

"I don't understand," Nesmay looked confused. "What do you mean, de-gnome the garden?"

"You'll see," Ron said, pushing open the back door and going out into the yard.

"Gnomes are ugly yellow creatures with long arms and hands, they're dirty from tunneling under the ground and they love to steal Mum's vegetables and herbs. They're a right nuisance," Ginny explained. "The boys usually just grab them by the foot or the arm and throw them in the wheat field when they catch them in the garden."

"Throw them?" Nesmay frowned. "Why don't you just ask them to leave?"

"Gnomes don't listen to wizards. They don't even speak English!" Ginny said, chuckling at the younger girl's naivety.

Ron had reached the Weasley vegetable garden and spotted several gnomes burrowing beside the lettuce and rutabaga patch. "Harry, come and help me get them!" he called, running over and seizing a gnome about to take a bite out of a lettuce. He quickly swung it over his head and flung it across the garden and into the wheat field.

"Come on, Draco!" Harry urged his brother, who stood watching.

"Looks like fun," muttered the former Malfoy scion and went to join his brother.

Nesmay stared at them in consternation, until she heard a gnome muttering a curse in the fae tongue. Then she snapped out of her dazed stupor and yelled, "Stop! There's a better way to get them to leave!"

Ron, who was just about to grab another gnome by the foot, looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"Let me talk to them," Nesmay said. She entered the garden and took up a position squarely in the middle of it, her feet planted firmly between some squash and potatoes. Then she drew herself up to her full height and called in the fae tongue, "People of the Earth, halt! I, Nesmayallindra Highstar, daughter of Aislinn, granddaughter of Titania, command it!"

All the gnomes in the garden stopped dead. Then all of them popped out of the ground and came to stand in a semi-circle around the girl. As if on cue, they bowed and knelt before her.

"O gracious lady, how may we serve you?" they asked in their rough gravelly voices.

Nesmay gave them a look worthy of Titania and said in her best haughty court tones, "I command you to leave this garden and . . . steal from it no more! These mortals are under the protection of the crown and you shall incur the wrath of mighty Titania should you continue to steal from them. Go forth and never return here again!" She lifted a finger and pointed dramatically.

"We hear and obey, great and gracious princess!" the gnomes cried, then they bowed once more and dove back into the earth. Within five seconds they had vanished from the garden.

Ron was staring at the half-fae girl as if she were some kind of wondrous being. "Holy Merlin! What did you say to them?"

Nesmay grinned. "I told them who I was and that you were under my protection and to never steal from you again, or else the wrath of Titania would fall upon them."

"And they believed you?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Of course. I am fae royalty," Nesmay said.

"And they'll obey you?" Ginny looked impressed.

"Yes. You won't have any more gnomes coming here raiding ever again." Nesmay told her, smiling shyly. "Sometimes it's good to be the queen's granddaughter."

"You can say that again," Ron grinned. "No more de-gnoming the garden. Hurray!"

They spent the rest of the time until dinner outside, playing hide-and-go-seek in the cornfield and the boys and Ginny played an abbreviated kind of Quidditch until Ron tossed the Quaffle too hard and it smashed into a window, cracking it.

Harry and Draco were horrified, sure they were going to get in terrible trouble; if that had happened at home, Severus would have taken away their brooms and grounded them for a week. But Molly came out, scolded them for not watching where they aimed, and mended the window in a trice. The boys apologized and promised to be careful. She saw Nesmay sitting and watching and asked kindly, "Don't you like to fly, Nesmay?"

"Not on a broom, ma'am," the girl answered.

"Ah, I see. Well then, would you like to help me with dinner?"

"Will you teach me how to cook?" Nesmay jumped up. "The chefs at the palace never would, they said it wasn't meet for royal blood to toil like a mere kitchen sprite."

Molly smiled, she loved having an eager apprentice. "That's not so here. Come along, Nesmay, and I'll show you some kitchen spells. Those are always useful for a witch to know and then you can help your stepmum."

"That'd be grand! Sarai's a great warrior, but she can only heat up food over a campfire and make sandwiches," Nesmay whispered, happy to learn something that would help her contribute to her new family.

Arthur arrived home to find Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Draco playing a less vigorous game of Quidditch over the cornfield, close to the shed where he kept his experiments. "Hello, Harry! Molly told me that you were coming to visit for a bit, but I forgot today was the day. And hello to you too, Draco!" He waved to the boys.

They all turned and landed their brooms. Ginny came running up to him and cried excitedly, "Dad! You'll never guess what happened today."

"Your brother broke the kitchen window again?"

"Uh . . . well, yes, but something else happened too."

"You blew up a cauldron again?"

"Dad! No, we were de-gnoming the garden, and Harry's little sister Nesmay, who's a fae princess, she ordered all the gnomes to leave our garden alone forever and now we'll never have gnomes in the garden again!"

"How marvelous!" Arthur smiled. "I must thank her, where is she?"

The boys glanced about, for they had not realized Nesmay was no longer outside.

"I think she went inside with Mum," Ginny said helpfully.

"Probably. You lot better get inside and wash up, Molly hates when you're late for supper," Arthur advised. He then removed several small items from his pocket and set them on the ground.

When Harry looked at them, he saw five mini bicycles. "What are those, Mr. Weasley?"

Arthur rubbed his hands together and drew his wand, enlarging them with a word. "These, Harry, are my latest project. I'll tell you more over supper. Now go, get on inside. You don't want to miss Molly's dinner."

He pointed his wand and the bicycles began to roll themselves over to his shed, where they leaned against the wall. Most of the bikes were worn, with the paint chipped, but they all had baskets and horns on them. They were different colors, red, green, blue, purple, and pink.

Over the delicious dinner of herbed roasted chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, buttered sprouts, and fresh baked bread, Arthur explained that he was working on a new invention, a flying bicycle. "My department at the Ministry, the Use and Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, got together with the Transportation Department, and are trying to figure out an alternative to broom travel."

Ron almost choked on his chicken. "Dad, y'mean you want to get rid of brooms?"

"No, Ron, but you see, we can't fly everywhere on brooms without running the risk of Muggles seeing us, unless we use Notice-Me-Not charms, and sometimes brooms are expensive, as you know. Not everyone can afford one for each member of the family. So we were trying to come up with something that was more . . .cost effective and practical, something that wouldn't draw as much attention to us. So I came up with the idea of a bicycle. Many Muggles use them, and there are also thousands that are thrown away in junkyards. We can take them, fix them up with magic, and enchant them. That's what I'm going to do with the five I have. Who knows, my flying bicycle might be a big hit?"

"That'd be great, Dad," Ron said, relieved that brooms were not suddenly going to be obsolete. "Can we help?"

"Ah . . . maybe later, when I'm ready to test them," Arthur demurred, helping himself to more potatoes and chicken.

"How soon will that be, sir?" Draco asked.

"Well, that depends. On how much time I have to work on them. They could be ready to be tested in a few days. Perhaps Saturday or Sunday."

"More potatoes, Draco?" Molly asked, floating the bowl over to him.

Draco eagerly helped himself to some more. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. These are delicious. You cook as well as Professor Snape."

"Really? I've heard he's an excellent cook, though I haven't yet had the chance to taste anything he's made."

"We ought to have you over to the manor sometime for dinner," Draco said.

"Maybe for Christmas?" Harry suggested.

"That would be lovely," Molly agreed. "I'll look forward to it."

For a sweet there was treacle tart and homemade ice-cream in three flavors, vanilla, brown bread, and apple crumble. The children all had sundaes, except Harry, who had a scoop of vanilla ice cream atop his piece of treacle tart. He sighed in bliss. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed Molly's cooking, especially because she always made the most scrumptious sweets. Treacle tart was a rare treat at his home, for Severus preferred fruit and shortbread biscuits and the occasional apple or peach turnover for dessert, nothing truly unhealthy. Sometimes they had ice cream from Fortescue's, but never more than once or twice a month.

The Snape children helped clean up after dinner, mindful of their manners, and after that Ron challenged Draco to a game of chess, while Ginny, Nesmay, and Harry played a variation on Exploding Snap.

They would have played all night, as Ron had found a worthy opponent in Draco, but Arthur came and told them it was lights out and they all went to bed. As Harry slid beneath his sheets, he thought it was going to be a great vacation, and hoped his father and Sarai were also enjoying themselves. He soon fell asleep to Draco's soft breathing.

**Page ~*~*~*~*~*Break**

The next day, Molly took the girls into the small Muggle village nearby to shop for some clothes. Ginny loved the fae silks Nesmay had, claiming they were ten times more comfortable than anything the wizarding world produced. Nesmay gave her a top, colored aqua and royal blue, saying it matched her eyes. Ginny was delighted, she usually never got any new clothes, Molly made many of them or shopped at the secondhand clothing stores.

"Mum, look what Nesmay gave me! Isn't it smashing?" Ginny twirled about, making the top flare out at the bottom.

"That's a beautiful top, dear! It looks lovely with your denims," Molly said. She glanced over at Nesmay. "That's very generous of you, Nesmay. Are you quite sure you want to give it away?"

"Yes. It looks better on Ginny than me," Nesmay answered, wondering why Molly would make such a fuss over a top. They were her clothes, after all, and she had so many she could have worn a different set every day.

"Now we have to go shopping, Mum! So I can buy Nesmay a pair of denims like mine," Ginny begged.

"Well . . ." Molly dithered.

"Please, Mum! Please! Nesmay's never been to a village before and I have money saved up . . ."

"I thought you were going to use that money to buy new school books?"

"I can always use Fred or George's potions text. A pair of denims won't cost too much and then we can have lunch too. My treat! _Please_?"

Molly gave in when she was faced with two pairs of pleading puppy-dog eyes. "Oh, all right! You twisted my arm. Why don't you see if the boys want to shop too?"

But the boys decline, because Ron and Draco wanted to finish their chess game and Harry wanted to finish reading _Voyage of the Dawn Treader_. The women were gone for several hours and after the chess game ended with Draco checkmating Ron, the boys grew bored. Harry was almost done with his book, and decided to save the rest for later; Ron went rummaging through the twins' closet shelf and found a box of joke products they'd left behind.

They tested a few of the products on each other, then Ron said, "Let's prank the girls! In Fred and George's honor!"

"All right, Ron. What shall we do?" asked Harry, who hadn't played a good prank on anyone since last summer and the mud war with Draco.

"How about this . . .?" Ron whispered something in Harry's ear.

"Hey, count me in too," Draco said, feeling left out.

Harry told him Ron's suggestion. The Slytherin smirked. "I have a better idea . . ."

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

The girls and Molly arrived back at the Burrow half-an-hour later, each with a new outfit, chattering excitedly like two magpies about what they had seen and eaten for lunch at the village. They passed the boys in the loft, and Ginny called, "Having fun with Harry and Draco, Ron? Who won the chess game?"

"Malfoy did. But I'll kick his arse next time," Ron said, hiding a smirk.

"Like hell, Weasley," snorted Draco, pretending to be snooty.

Harry remained with his nose buried in a Quidditch mag, not saying anything for fear he would start laughing.

Oblivious, the girls continued down the hall to Ginny's room.

"Any minute now," Ron hissed.

They heard the door to Ginny's room open.

"I can't wait to try on this new shirt," Ginny was saying to Nesmay. "I think it'll—AHHH!"

A large bucket of glittery purple paint cascaded all over her, as the bucket and the rope the boys had rigged flipped over, soaking both girls with paint.

"Oh my God! My new top!" Ginny was screaming. "Ronald, I'm going to _kill_ you!"

Nesmay wiped paint off her face. "Draco, that was really stupid!"

"Me? It was Harry's idea!" Draco protested.

They all came out to see the paint slathered girls, laughing. "Now you and Nessie are twins!" Ron giggled, indicating Ginny's now purple hair.

Ginny shook her fist at him. "Ooh! Just you wait! I can't believe you did this! My new top . . . it's _ruined_, you bloody imbecile!" She sniffled, trying to brush the paint off the spider silk blouse. "This is why all brothers belong in an asylum!"

The boys were laughing their heads off.

"Don't worry, Gin," Nesmay said. "We'll get them back. They think they're so clever . . . but they didn't have Robin Goodfellow, for a tutor. He knows more pranks than any mortal ever born, and he taught me a lot of them, so I could prank my dumbass cousin Malchiar. We'll get them back good!"

Ginny groaned. "I hope so!" Then she stomped into the bathroom to shower.

Nesmay glowered at the boys. "You're going to be sorry you started this."

"Now I'm really scared," Harry teased, wiping tears from his eyes. "Can't you take a joke, Nesmay?"

She sniffed, her face streaked with paint. "Can _you_, Mr. Snape?" She waved her wand and intoned a Clean Up Charm, so the paint was scoured off the floor and the walls. Then she waited for Ginny to finish her shower and plotted revenge.

"What do you think they'll do to us?" asked Ron, a bit worriedly.

"Nothing big," Draco waved a hand dismissively. "They're girls, they don't know how to prank anybody."

"I hope you're right, Draco," Harry muttered. He had the uneasy feeling that the blond Slytherin was wrong.

Molly managed to get the paint off of Ginny's blouse, and scolded the boys for doing such a foolish thing. She also took away their dessert for that night, which was chocolate cake, and made Ron drool in envy as he watched Nesmay and Ginny devour it in front of him. Arthur just shook his head at the boys' antics, well used to it from raising the twins.

"Come outside to the shed with me," he said to them. "Maybe I can keep you three out of trouble by helping me organize my experiments."

Harry let out the breath he'd been holding when he heard Arthur say that. For one instant he'd been afraid that Mr. Weasley was going to whip them all for the prank, since Uncle Vernon used to drag Harry out to the garden shed and whip him when Dudley complained that Harry did freaky things to him. That had been years ago, but some memories still lingered, even after the dream therapy with Smidgen.

All of the boys followed Mr. Weasley, leaving Nesmay and Ginny a chance to get some payback. After they had helped Molly put away the dishes, they went upstairs, telling her they were going to try on their new outfits. That was true, but they were also going to invade the boys' rooms.

"I can't wait to see their faces when they wake up tomorrow!" Ginny said gleefully, rubbing her gloved hands together.

"Serves them right," Nesmay said, a devilish gleam in her eyes. "Let's see how well they can take a joke."

Ginny glance down at the container of shredded plant leaves in her hand. "Are you sure this stuff will work, Nesmay?"

"Of course! Robin is the ultimate prankster. The effects will wear off . . .in about twelve hours."

They crept into the twins' room and set to work.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*Break**

When the boys returned from helping Arthur, they were too tired to be bothered about inspecting their room for any sign of the girls' revenge prank. Or at least Harry and Ron were. Draco did look about cautiously, his innate Slytherin caution coming into play, but everything looked normal. The two brothers got undressed and into bed, casting Cooling Charms over their sheets, for it was a hot night.

A moment later, Draco growled, "What the hell? There's something wrong with my sheets. My feet keep getting tangled up in them."

Harry was having the same problem. He sat up and climbed out of bed, lighting up the room with his wand. "They shortsheeted our beds, Draco," he said. "That's the oldest trick in the book. Dudley used to do that to me all the time." He pulled out the sheets and fixed them.

"Some prank!" Draco rolled his eyes. "Told you they were no good at them."

Little did he know that wasn't all that had been done to them.

After fixing his sheets, he crawled back into bed, thinking there was an odd smell in the air, but he was too tired to worry about it.

Harry woke at dawn feeling hot and scratchy. He had an itch in the middle of his lower back. Squirming, he sat up and reached back to scratch. Two minutes later he was scratching frantically, his legs, calves, even his bottom itched like seven hells. And the more he scratched, the worse it got. He shook his head, it felt strangely heavy. Unable to bear rubbing against the sheet, he sprang out of bed.

The sudden thud of his feet hitting the floor woke Draco, who sat up and mumbled, "Huh? Whassa matter?"

"Draco, are you . . .itchy anywhere?" Harry asked, still scratching like crazy.

"Am I what?" His brother yawned, then he, too, felt an itch start in his foot. Soon he was whimpering and scratching also. "Bloody hell, Harry! What's wrong with us?"

Harry turned on the lamp and stared at Draco. "Merlin! Draco . . .don't look in the mirror . . ."

"Why?" demanded the Slytherin. "What's wrong . . .ahhh!" he wailed as he caught sight of his face, which was puffy and blotchy and filled with small red pustules. But that was not the worst. Hanging on either side of his head, were long gray asses' ears.

A moment later, Ron stumbled into their room. "H-Harry . . . look at me and tell me I d-don't have the ears of a jackass . . .oh no! Not you too!" He was also scratching his bum and thighs.

Harry grimaced and struggled not to scratch himself, sensing it would only be worse if he did. "Ron, I think we've been had royally."

"W-what do you mean? Ooh, I itch!" He began hopping about on one foot, trying to scratch the bottom of it.

"I mean our sisters did this to us." Harry groaned. They were all sporting jackass ears and a very itchy red rash.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth then they heard snickering coming from the hallway.

"Nesmay, a trio of jackasses are living in this room!" Ginny taunted, before exploding into laughter.

"Not only that, but jackasses with a very bad case of . . . poison oak!" Nesmay cackled. "Don't scratch too much, boys, it'll spread."

"Nesmay!" cried Harry in dismay. "How _could_ you? This . . . isn't _funny_!"

"What's the matter, big brother? Can't you take a joke?" she purred.

"This isn't a joke!" Ron whined. "It's like torture!"

"Aww! Poor baby!" Ginny smirked.

"When's it wear off?" gasped Draco.

"Umm . . .in about twelve hours . . ." Nesmay informed him.

"Twelve _hours_!" they wailed.

"Serves you right," Ginny huffed. "She who laughs last, laughs best!"

"I did warn you," Nesmay said, somewhat smugly.

Then the girls turned and marched back to their room, where they collapsed on their beds, smothering their laughter in their pillows.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*Break**

It wasn't until Saturday night that the boys were recovered, their soft asses' ears vanished and so did the rash, thanks to Molly's smelly Anti-Itch Salve, but the three had to spend all of that day in bed. The only good thing about that was Molly made Ginny and Nesmay bring them lunch and dinner on a tray, but otherwise, they were miserable. However, when they went to complain to Mrs. Weasley, she told them to hush and said that if they didn't want to be pranked back, they shouldn't have started it by pranking the girls in the first place.

Glumly, Harry had to admit she was right, and told Draco to quit sulking.

So they called a truce, and reluctantly allowed that the girls' prank was a fitting revenge.

They were all sitting about in the loft, keeping their voices low, for Molly and Arthur had gone to sleep, when Ginny whispered that her father had finally managed to enchant the five bikes. "Nesmay and I tested them this afternoon, for about ten minutes. Dad put a Don't See Me charm on us and we rode them around and then hovered in place for about five minutes and then flew about the house. It was fun."

Harry gaped at Nesmay. "_You_ went flying? On an experimental bike? Were you scared?"

"No. I felt comfortable on the bike," said his sister.

"It's a lot easier to sit up and steer on the bike than on a broom," Ginny added.

"Merlin! You girls have all the fun!" Ron grumbled, eating a piece of cherry pie.

"Tell me about it," groused Draco. "While we were stuck in bed being driven mad by itching, you get to go joyriding . . ."

"Next time don't play pranks on Robin Goodfellow's student," Nesmay said.

"It's your own fault," Ginny told him.

"Ahh, shut up!" Draco scowled.

"Do you think we could try out the bikes?" Harry wondered.

"I don't know. Dad did say there were a few kinks to be worked out." Ginny informed him.

"But tomorrow's our last day here. We return to the manor after supper," Harry recalled.

"Why don't we go and test them out tonight?" Ron suggested. "Dad won't mind."

"Ron, he said we shouldn't ever test an experimental device unless he's with us, you know that," reminded his sister aggravatingly.

"He always says that, Gin. I'm sure the bikes are fine. All we want to do is fly a bit with 'em."

"Whatever, Ron!"

"C'mon, we'll just take a turn about the yard," Harry encouraged. He was bored to death and wanted to get out and do something fun. It would only be a few minutes. What harm could there be? It wasn't like they were stealing the bikes.

They tiptoed down the stairs and out the back door. The bikes were leaning against the shed, and they saw the faint silvery sheen of an active spell glistening over them.

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed, going over to the red one and mounting it.

"I call the green one," Draco declared, running over to the green bike.

"That leaves the blue for me," Harry shrugged. "You coming, Nesmay?"

Nesmay hesitated. She had loved flying on the bike, but wasn't sure if she wanted to risk doing so at night.

"I don't know if we should . . ." Ginny murmured.

"Scaredy-cats!" mocked Ron, pedaling above them in lazy circles.

"Who are you calling scared?" snapped Ginny, then she grabbed the pink bike and hopped on.

A moment later, Nesmay followed suit.

The moon had risen by then, a great luminous full sphere, a "werewolf-moon". The sky was pitch black, save for tiny twinkling motes of stars. It was a clear night, a night that was perfect for stargazing . . . or night flying.

"This is great!" Ron shrilled, doing circles about the shed. He didn't really need to pedal, the bike flew by his mental prompting, similar to a broom.

"Weasley, pipe down!" Malfoy snapped. "You want to get us caught?" He flew as gracefully as he ever did on his Nimbus 2005, doing tight turns and spirals about the house.

At first, all the kids did was fly close to the yard, but then they started doing bigger circles, extending their range over the neighboring corn rows. It was way past midnight and everyone should be sleeping. It was Draco who challenged the others to a race, though Ron said it had to be a long one, like to the village and back. Nesmay and Ginny were eager to test themselves against their brothers, but Harry bit his lip.

It was one thing to stay in the yard, where no one would notice them, but leaving the property . . . "Ron, I don't think we should do that. We could race across the cornfield instead. That way no one would see us."

"That's no fun, Harry! It's just to the village, not really that far at all. It'll take maybe five or ten minutes and then we'll be back home. C'mon, Harry, don't be such a worrywart. You're starting to sound like Hermione!"

"People are sleeping, no one will ever know," persuaded Ginny. "I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave and daring."

Harry considered for a bit more before finally allowing himself to be swayed. It was a beautiful night and he was probably worrying over nothing. He didn't want to seem like a coward, especially not since Nesmay was going. Besides, he knew how to cast a Notice Me Not Charm. "All right. Everybody line up."

He hovered his bicycle just over the roof peak of the house, and muttered the charm. Then he called out, "Ready, set, GO!"

The bicycles took off, shooting across the sky like comets.

Ron and Draco were ahead of the rest, pushing their bikes as fast as they could go. They were followed by Ginny and Nesmay, who were giggling and trying to out run the boys. Harry flew a bit slower, enjoying the wind in his face and the sheer brilliance of the moon hanging overhead. It was so bright he felt as if he could touch it.

They reached the sleepy village and slingshot about the town, Draco was slightly ahead of Ron at this point, with Nesmay and Ginny tied for third. But it was then that they started having slight acceleration problems.

All of a sudden, Ron's bike coughed . . .and seemed to run out of steam. "Hey!" he cried, wobbling a bit. "What's going on?"

"I _told_ you Dad hadn't worked out all the kinks yet," Ginny moaned. "You'd better slow down, Ron."

Ron reluctantly slowed down to a glide, and the girls, Draco, and Harry did also, until they were strung out in a line, silhouetted across the brilliant moon.

Little did they know that an eight-year-old boy happened to wake in the middle of the night to get a drink of water, and on his way back to his bed in the attic, he passed his opened window. He glanced out it and saw the five bikes and the young wizards riding them silhouetted across the moon. His mouth fell open. He couldn't believe his eyes! Then he shouted, "Mum! Dad! Jimmy! Come and see! It's ET!"

His shrill shouts woke his parents and older brother, who came charging up the stairs just in time to see the last bike fly past, outlined clearly by moonlight, just like the famous scene in Spielberg's classic film.

"Oh my word!"

"It really does look like it! But . . .bikes don't fly!"

"Yeah! ET phone home!" yelled Jimmy, pumping his fist in the air.

"Mummy, it's Elliot!" the little boy pointed to Draco.

They watched until the bikes suddenly dipped down behind some trees and vanished from sight.

Because they didn't want to tax the fading spells any more, it took the children about an hour to get back to the Burrow.

They circled the house and the yard, everything seemed quiet.

"See? Everything's fine," Draco muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Harry.

Ron wiped sweat from his brow, thinking that this midnight ride had sure gone better than the time the twins and he had flown Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia. He slowly glided down for a landing, followed by Ginny, Malfoy, Harry, and Nesmay.

They had no sooner touched down when there came a blinding flash and all of them were illuminated by the bright lights from three wands.

All of them froze as they saw Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley glowering at them.

"_Where_ have you children been?" Molly demanded furiously.

"Uh . . . hi, Mum," Ron said weakly, giving her a rather lame grin.

Draco gulped, for Molly looked ready to grab a spoon and tan all their backsides.

Harry hung his head, getting off the bike. From the Weasleys' expressions, they had probably been frantic upon finding all of them missing. "Mrs. Weasley, I can explain—" he began, cancelling his charm.

"Harry Albus Snape, start talking," growled a familiar voice.

Only then did Harry see the tall figure standing partially in shadow next to Molly. "Dad?"

Severus stepped into the pool of light thrown by their combined wands, and so did a smaller figure, cupping a glowing globe in one hand and the other resting on the hilt of her sword. Both of them wore expressions of extreme displeasure.

"Sarai?" Nesmay whispered in dismay, her heart plummeting to her shoes.

_Aww, Merlin! We are so dead!_ Harry groaned inwardly.

**A/N: Anyone want to guess at what will happen to all of them now?**

**Special thanks to Jlbrew27 for giving me the ET idea with the bikes**


	66. Taking the Consequences

**66**

**Taking the Consequences**

***warning-some parental spanking this chapter***

"Sev, might I suggest we continue this discussion inside, so we don't wake the entire neighborhood?" Sarai suggested to her husband.

Severus nodded shortly and said, "Inside, all of you."

All of the kids hustled their behinds into the house. Molly told them all to sit on the couch and then the four parents proceeded to give them the lecture of their lives. They took turns, and Molly was first.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley and Ginevra Molly Weasley! What in Merlin's name were you _thinking_? Sneaking out in the middle of the night to go riding those flying bicycles of your father's? Ronald, you especially know better, after that stunt you pulled with the flying car when you were twelve! And you do too, Ginny! Do you have any idea how worried we were when we found you all missing? My heart almost jumped straight out of my throat. I thought you'd been kidnapped, especially with what happened to Harry and Draco over the summer! All I could think of was some dark fae had come and stolen all of you away in the dead of night. So I sent my Patronus over to Prince Manor and told Severus and Sarai what happened—I'm so sorry I ruined your honeymoon—" she paused and cast an apologetic glance at them. "—your father went to check outside and found the bikes gone and that was when I knew you foolish young idiots had gone off for a-a moonlight spin! How could you all be so IRRESPONSIBLE?"

The children all winced at Molly's last words, which were practically bellowed in their ears.

Ron and Ginny both looked at their shoes and muttered, "We're sorry, Mum. We didn't mean to make you worry."

"You did more than make us worry, you made us frantic!" Arthur now took over. "After the trouble you caused with my flying Ford Anglia last time, Ronald, one would think you had learned your lesson about touching my experiments without permission. This time you not only involved Harry in your mad scheme—who also should know better—but your sister, Draco, and Nesmay! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, young man. Do you know what could happen if the Ministry ever got wind that another magical artifact of mine has been misused and possibly spotted by Muggles? What if you were seen?"

"I don't think we were, sir," Draco spoke up. "We were careful, and it was the middle of the night, everyone was sleeping. We only flew over the village for a few moments."

"Indeed? And did you personally check each house down there to make certain of that, Draco Michael?" demanded Severus. His glower made them all cringe and shiver right down to their toes. "Did any of you have Concealment Charms about you? Did you even think about what could have happened if you were seen? Or were you all too stupid to remember the Statute of Secrecy?"

"Dad, I . . . I had a Notice-Me-Not Charm on," Harry said, not daring to meet his father's gaze.

"No mortal can see me unless I want them to, I had my glamour on," Nesmay added, though she too avoided his eyes.

The others remained silent, now kicking themselves for not remembering the Concealment Charms. Draco glared at Harry and muttered, "Real nice, why didn't you remind the rest of us?"

"I forgot! What am I, your mum?" Harry snarled back.

"Had you been where you were supposed to be, sleeping in bed, you wouldn't have needed to worry about your brother reminding you to hide in plain sight," Sarai interjected, and her voice was as cold as hoar frost. "After what all of you endured in Jarillion's keep, I would think you should have learned to never wander about at night, nor to leave anywhere without permission, or write a note telling Mr. and Mrs. Weasley where you are going. You scared both me and your father out of ten years of our lives with your recklessness! Just because we are in the mortal realm now does not mean that enemies can't find you and harm you. Both wizard ones and fae. You not only put yourselves in danger, but you broke your word to your father. There is no excuse for that. All of you know better, you're not three-year-olds."

They all squirmed under her censorious gaze, fierce as a falcon, she skewered them with her eyes, that seemed to see right through you.

"We're sorry, Sarai. We didn't think there'd be any harm in it. We only wanted to fly the bikes for a few minutes." Nesmay said, her face heating in shame. According to fae custom, there was no greater shame than breaking one's word.

"It was Ron's idea to fly around the village," Ginny said. "I told him it was a bad idea."

"Aw, shut up, Gin! You still went along with it." Ron snapped.

"Only 'cause you dared me and Nesmay to." She shot back.

"Quiet, the pair of you!" Severus' voice cut like steel through their quarrel and froze their tongues into stillness. "Every single one of you knew what you were doing was forbidden, by both magical and fae law. Can any of you deny that? No. So therefore all of you are equally guilty, no matter who suggested what first." He put his hands on his hips, his brows drawn down in his trademark scowl. "Harry, Draco, and Nesmayallindra, I am extremely disappointed and angry with all of you. You promised me you would behave for Molly and Arthur as you would me at the Burrow and respect their authority. Is this what you call behaving? Sneaking around to fly untested experimental magical artifacts? What if you had fallen off the bikes? Were any of you prepared to cast Safety Charms? You could have all broken your bloody necks! Not to mention that you are all underage and shouldn't be using magic outside of school."

"But Nesmay doesn't go to school," Ron blurted before he could think better of it.

Snape pinned him with his glare. "Nevertheless, Ronald, she has to obey the same rules you do, for her own safety, and not cast spells without my permission." He turned back to his children. "Harry, what happened to thinking before you acted? Was my lesson at school not enough? Must I tie you to me like a baby?"

Harry felt his face turn as red as the Gryffindor banner. "No, sir."

"You especially should have known better than to pull a stunt like this, considering how you almost got expelled second-year." Severus said grimly. "Then again, Minerva punished you for that infraction, not me. It's clear she didn't make enough of an impression. I intend to remedy that." He drew in a deep breath, then let it out. "Once I have control of my temper, that is." He pulled a wooden spoon from his pocket and handed it to Sarai. "Excuse me, I need five minutes."

Then he turned and stalked from the house.

All five children paled when they saw that dreaded object. Molly was holding one also.

"Mum, I'm fifteen!" Ron argued, he was scarlet.

"Your point, Ronald?" his mother demanded. "You know my rule, if you act like a baby, you're punished like one. Severus has that rule also, right, Sarai?"

The fae warrior nodded. "He does, as Draco and Harry know well." She frowned sternly at Nesmay. "Nesmayallindra knows also that breaking her sworn word will earn her a spanking, for all that we fae dislike physical chastisement."

"Yes, my lady. It is just," the girl whispered, sniffling. Her guardians' disapproval cut her like a whip.

"In addition to that, we have also decided that you and Ginny, Ron, will be restricted to the house for two weeks and not allowed to do anything but chores and no playing Quidditch or visiting your brothers at Zonkos." Arthur lectured.

"In other words, you're grounded." Harry sighed. "Mr. Weasley, what about us?"

"Your father will tell you about your . . . grounding," Arthur answered. "While we agreed to give all of you similar punishments, Severus says he warned all of you about what would happen if you misbehaved here."

"Merlin, we're screwed!" Draco hissed.

"You think?" Harry asked sarcastically. "There goes the rest of our summer."

Then they waited, dread curling in their stomachs, for Snape to return. It was barely five minutes since the professor had left, but to the five miscreants it felt like five years.

Finally they heard the professor's soft tread upon the porch and then the door opened and Severus came back into the den. He still looked stern and forbidding, but temper no longer blazed in his obsidian eyes. He turned to his wife and said, "Sarai, do you think Smidgen would be able to run reconnaissance over the village and make certain that no Muggle saw these five wretches?"

Sarai considered it for a moment. "I don't see why not. You know a shimmerling is the world's greatest creature for coming and going unseen and she can hear the thoughts of any who are awake and see the dreams of the sleeping ones. Shall I ask her?"

"Yes, that would be wise. This way Arthur won't be facing a Board of Inquiry tomorrow morning."

Sarai closed her eyes and concentrated, speaking with the shimmerling silently. Then she opened her eyes and said, "Smidgen has said she shall do what she can. If any mortal were awake at the time, she can convince them it was but a dream, easy enough for a dreamweaver."

"Good. That shall take care of that, then."

"Thank you, Severus. That was very kind of you." Arthur said, looking quite relieved.

"Not at all, considering it was my children who put you in that position in the first place," Severus waved off the other's gratitude.

"Mine went right along with them," Arthur said, looking quite angry.

Severus whirled back around and faced his disobedient children. "Because you have all behaved like five-year-olds tonight instead of your actual ages, your mother and I have agreed to punish you like one. For your disobedience and breaking your promise, all of you shall receive three smacks with my spoon. In addition to that, because I warned you to behave and you failed to do so, you shall also get a month's grounding, double that of Ronald and Ginvera, because I promised you if you misbehaved you would get double the punishment from me."

"A _month_!" Draco groaned. "But Dad, what if we agree to five swats and three weeks? That's fair, right?"

Severus' mouth tightened. "Draco Michael Malfoy, this is not open to negotiation."

"Draco, shut up!" Harry hissed. "Before he adds more days."

"Now then, you all know what my groundings entail, and I will have a list of chores posted on the wall in the kitchen tomorrow morning. Harry and Draco, come with me outside." He took the spoon back from Sarai.

"Yes, sir," they mumbled and followed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Molly Summon two more spoons and hand one to Arthur and the other to Sarai. _Merlin, how many does she have?_ He wondered. Then he thought she probably had as many as she had children. Then he was out on the porch, and he felt his stomach tighten into a hard knot of shame and embarrassment. After what had happened last summer, he had vowed to himself to never be in such a humiliating position again, and yet here he was, about to get his bum spanked.

He shot a look at his brother, who looked equally embarrassed and ashamed.

Harry wanted to protest, but his conscience wouldn't allow it. He knew he deserved this. He lifted his head up and met his father's eyes. "I'm sorry, sir."

"For what?" came the sharp response.

"For disobeying you, and breaking my promise, and scaring everyone," his son said. Then he added, "And for making you spank us."

"You ought to be, Harry Albus Snape. This was _not_ how I envisioned spending the last night of my honeymoon." Severus set his jaw. "Bend over the porch railing, both of you."

The boys obeyed.

Harry gritted his teeth as the first smack landed. Severus didn't hit hard enough to leave marks, but it stung a lot. One good thing was that he didn't lecture during the punishment, and he didn't linger over it either.

Next to him Draco hissed as the spoon smacked him also, but the punishment was swift and soon over. He remained still, however, until he felt Severus' hand on his shoulder, drawing him upright. "Stand up, Dragon. It's over."

Only then did Draco feel the prickle of tears behind his eyes. "Am I forgiven, sir?" he whispered. "I'm really sorry for everything."

"So you should be. Next time behave, dammit!" his father growled, then he gave him a brief hug.

Draco hastily wiped a hand across his eyes when Severus withdrew to comfort Harry and forgive him also. He would not cry like a baby over a mere three whacks, even though he felt guilty enough to bawl like a toddler.

Harry felt an irrational urge to cling to his father and cry on his shoulder, but he squelched it. He was nearly fifteen and it wasn't as if the spanking had hurt _that_ much. His pride stung a hell of a lot more than his behind. As did his conscience. "I'm sorry I disappointed you," he sniffled. "I'll try and do better next time."

"Good. Learn from this, Harry. I mean it. You too, Draco." He handed them two handkerchiefs, then walked back inside, tucking the spoon back in his pocket as his did so.

Harry blotted his eyes with the handkerchief and grimaced, rubbing his behind. "Oww!"

Draco gave him a commiserating look. "For all he hates walloping us, he does a good job of it."

"Mmm . . .Obviously." Harry groused. "Draco . . .?"

"What?" His Slytherin brother answered, also rubbing the sting away.

"After it was over did you feel like . . . crying?"

Draco was silent for a long moment. "Yes. We were so dumb and I felt like a stupid little kid again. Plus we ruined his honeymoon. And if you tell anyone I said that, Phoenix, I'll kill you."

Harry pretended to zip his lips closed. "I won't. Brothers don't tell secrets like that."

Draco smirked. "Took you long enough to figure it out." He dodged Harry's mock punch. "Guess we better get back inside."

"Do you think they'll make us come home tonight?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

They opened the back door and walked back inside the Burrow.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*Break**

Severus glanced about as he entered the house, and saw Molly hugging a repentant Ginny. The girl was crying quietly into Molly's robe. The witch looked tired and saddened. "Severus, I believe Sarai and Nesmay are in the study." She waved him towards the small hallway.

Severus found the room without a problem. As soon as he opened the door, he saw Nesmay standing there, looking utterly wretched. "S-Severus, I ask your pardon for my behavior," she said formally, but the tears upon her face belied her poise and turned her back into the child she was. "I was wrong."

"You were. But I forgive you, child. Come here." He held out his arms.

Nesmay hesitated. Whenever her tutor had punished her, there had been no hugs after, because she did not deserve it.

Seeing the hesitation, Severus moved and took her into his arms. "Nesmay, once you're punished, you're also forgiven. Understand?"

"But . . . it's not over. Not for a month." She sniffled into his shirt.

"Even so, I still forgive you."

She started to cry quietly. "I broke my promise. I have shamed my House and yours. I'm sorry!"

"Shhh. I accept your apology, child. Now don't ever do something like this again." He held her until she stopped crying, which wasn't very long. Then he handed her a handkerchief and told her to go and wash her face.

"Sarai, are you all right? I know you feel as I do about punishing her like that." Severus began.

The warrior sighed. "Sometimes we all do things we don't like, Sev. This isn't the first time I've taken an apprentice over my knee. It was deserved. There is nothing so dishonorable as a broken promise among my people. You know that."

"Yes. But I'm sorry you had to do that." Her husband said, coming forward to hug her. To a fae, the broken promise was worse than the deed itself.

"Same here, beloved." She kissed him gently. "Hopefully they will have learned their lesson by the time they have served their grounding. Perhaps I shall give them some instruction in swordplay during that time? It also teaches discipline and forethought."

"Yes, if you wish. I can help."

"That would be wise. I have tutored three at once, but Draco is more of a height with you and might find it easier to counter your attacks." She smiled softly to herself, pondering something. "Then too, it may be best to lighten my training sessions all things considered."

Severus looked down at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the Healers always say not to overdo the exercise if you're expecting."

"Expecting . . .?" he repeated, his mind drawing a blank for a split second. Then comprehension filled his eyes. "You're pregnant? Already? Blessed Merlin!"

She laughed at his dumbfounded expression. "Sev, we haven't exactly been celibate. Before _or_ after the wedding. I think I' m about . . . three months, give or take a week. I waited to be sure, as my cycles are rarely regular."

"Now you're sure?"

"Quite sure. I wanted to surprise you tomorrow, but . . . I figured you could use some cheering up after walloping your sons. Are you happy, Sev?"

He cupped her face in his hands and whispered tenderly, "By all that's holy, Sarai, I am. So much that I cannot say. I never thought I would become a father again so soon."

"Nor did I. Most times it takes months before a fae woman, even a half-blood like me, catches. This is like a miracle."

Severus kissed her again, his hands pulling her close. "Sarai . . .love . . .you are my miracle . . . you and my . . .our . . .children." He felt elated, as if he had drunk a Euphoria Draft. He knew as well as she how rare it was for a fae-blood to quicken so soon. Then again, she was half-human and he hadn't been taking Contraceptix at all the last handful of times they had made love. "Are you sure your count is right?"

"Yes. This occurred while we were within the Faerie Realm, Sev. Time runs differently there. But I shall be seeing Healer Auriane to confirm it tomorrow."

"Bloody hell!" he swore. "You fought a frost giant while you were pregnant!"

"True. Why so shocked, sorcerer? Plenty of women before me have done so. The little one was perfectly safe in here." She stroked her still flat stomach. "Besides, I had no choice. Now that I am reasonably sure I am carrying, I shall take precautions not to overexert myself. But I am no helpless maid in a tower, Severus Snape, so do not expect me to lock myself away and behave like one. My mother ran an estate almost up to the month she delivered me. I see no reason why I cannot do the same."

"As long as the Healer says it's all right," Severus agreed, a stubborn look coming into his eyes.

"It will be. Trust me." She withdrew from his embrace. "Shall we go and tell our wayward children the good news?"

"Yes."

But before either could leave the study, Smidgen blinked into view.

_:Wizard Severus, Lady Sarai, I have done as you requested and only found a single family who had witnessed the flying bicycles tonight. They . . . seemed to think it was . . .something called an ET. I do not know what sort of creature that is . . .:_

"ET stands for Extra Terrestrial, in other words, an alien life form. Something that comes from out of this world." Severus clarified, struggling not to chuckle. "What did you do to them, Smidgen?"

_:I modified their memories a bit, encouraged their subconscious to present what they had seen as a dream. A very vivid dream, but that is all. I even implanted a suggestion that they all shared the same dream because they are a close-knit family and odd things like that do occur from time to time. I do not think you will have any trouble with them speaking about it to other mortals. Adults rarely discuss their dreams and no one will believe a child who speaks about dreams that seemed real.:_

"We are in your debt, Smidgen. Thank you."

_:There are no debts between friends, Severus. It was my pleasure to assist you.:_ the black shimmerling dipped her head in a slight bow. _:Now, I am going back home. There is still some night left, enough for me to get in another nap before dawn. Farewell, my friends.:_ Then Smidgen blinked away.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*Break**

When Draco and Harry came inside, they found Ron, Ginny, and Nesmay in the den, commiserating about their sore backsides and their upcoming groundings. Arthur and Molly were speaking quietly in the corner of the kitchen, Draco caught the words "Ministry of Magic" and immediately felt guilty for doing something that could cost Mr. Weasley his job, he knew the family couldn't afford to have the wizard out of work.

He quickly followed the others into the den, hoping that no one had spotted them.

"This is going to suck, not being able to fly my broom!" Ginny groaned. "I hate not being able to practice. I wanted to try out for the team next year. I'd have taken another five with Mum's spoon over this."

"Now you know what it's like to have my dad for a father," Harry said. "And we're also stuck doing the bloody laundry by hand."

"Why is that bad?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Because it takes forever and the wringer washer gives us blisters on our hands," Draco told them. "Dad will heal us, of course, but it still sucks."

"Well, we did deserve it." Nesmay sighed. "But I agree, it sucks."

"And we're grounded for a month besides," Draco scowled. "Damn it all, now I have to get up early again!"

"Parents! They're all alike," Ron grumbled. "Except the professor is stricter than my mum and dad, I think."

"I'd have to agree," Harry said. "Did your dad give you the same as mine did?"

"Yeah, I guess they all discussed it, because usually we get more than that. So I'm . . .sort of grateful to him." Ron coughed.

"Grateful? I'll bet you won't be saying that next week," Draco snorted. "Dad's groundings are a real pain in the arse. I wonder what rooms we'll be scrubbing in the manor?"

Harry shrugged. "Whatever ones are the filthiest and have the most trash."

Nesmay made a face. "Ugh! How boring!"

"Do you think they'll take you home tonight?" wondered Ron.

"I don't know. I guess," Nesmay frowned. She had been hoping they wouldn't, as she felt she owed an apology to the Weasleys and wished to help Molly with breakfast as part of her recompense.

"You may stay here, Nesmayallindra, for the rest of the night," Severus said from behind them, making them jump. "I trust you are all too tired and sore to make any more trouble for the Weasleys?"

"Yes, sir," his children chorused.

"Tomorrow is soon enough to begin your punishment. However, Sarai and I would like to share some good news with all of you before we return home."

Sarai came to stand next to her husband, smiling. "Harry, Draco, and Nesmay, what would you say to having a new addition to the family?"

"Huh? A new addition? Like a cat?" Draco asked, puzzled.

"No, it's not a pet," laughed the warrior.

Nesmay was staring at the older woman, her amber eyes wide. "No . . . it can't be . . ."

"What can't be?" Harry was confused.

"Sarai . . . you're going to have a baby!" Nesmay cried.

"Yes, I am."

Her brothers remained with their mouths open, too shocked to say anything. They looked from Sarai to Severus to Nesmay and back, their mouths opening and shutting like landed fish. Clearly, Nesmay's announcement had thrown them for a loop. Then again, in the Snape family, almost anything could happen, and often did.

**A/N: Hope you all liked this one! I won't be able to update again for several days, as I have a lot of parties and things to do thise weekend, so please be patient. Thanks everyone who had reviewed and read and favorited this story. Pleas continue to do so! I really appreciate it though I don't always have time to respond to all the reviews. Who wants to take a guess at what Sarai's having? Boy, girl, twins? **


	67. Plague's Hand

**67**

**Plague's Hand**

The Weasleys offered Severus and Sarai their sincere congratulations, and Molly said if Sarai had any questions, she would be happy to discuss them, either via firecalling or letters. She gave Sarai several wizarding parent handbooks and said she hoped all would go well with her pregnancy and delivery. Sarai thanked her and after admonishing their children to behave and giving them their doses of restorative water, the newly expecting parents Apparated back to Prince Manor.

The five disobedient children went up to bed, as directed by Molly, but after twenty minutes couldn't sleep, mostly because the three Snape children were too excited over Sarai's news. So they stayed up and cast Silencing Charms over their bedrooms and spoke about the upcoming baby . . . or babies.

"It's so amazing that Sarai is having a baby this soon," Nesmay told Ginny. "Most of my people never have children until months or years later, we fae don't get pregnant easily."

"I think it's wonderful!" Ginny said, lying on her side, facing Nesmay. "Now you can have a little sister or brother to raise."

"I hope it's a girl. Two brothers are about all I can take."

Ginny snickered. "Tell me about it." She rubbed her bottom, grimacing. "I'm sorry I got you into trouble, Nesmay."

"You didn't. I knew we shouldn't take the bikes out, but I chose to follow you instead of my conscience. I broke my word to Severus and the punishment was just." Nesmay told her.

"Thanks for forgiving me, Nesmay. You're a good friend."

"Next time I shall try and persuade you to not listen to your brothers." Nesmay said, grinning.

"Right. Keep in touch and let me know how you're doing, all right? Do you know if you'll be going to Hogwarts next term?"

"I'm . . . not sure. It depends on if I can learn sufficient control over my magic." Nesmay said.

"But that's what you go to school for," Ginny said, confused. "I don't understand."

"Let me explain . . ." Nesmay began, and told her new friend the story of her uncontrollable magic and how she had blown up Ollivander's shop.

Meanwhile, down the hall in the boys' room, Ron told Draco and Harry that they better pray the new baby was a boy. "Believe me when I tell you, mate, you don't want it to be a girl. Girls are nothing but trouble!"

Draco cocked his head. "How so? Your sister doesn't seem all that terrible."

Ron rolled his eyes. "That's because you don't have to live with her. She's the youngest, which means Mum and Dad spoil her. Not only that, but she's so bossy and you can't really deal with her the same way you would a brother, because hitting a girl and rubbing her face in the dirt's just not done. Plus, girls are just plain weird and make no sense half the time. So, start praying for a boy."

"But I think Dad really wants a girl," Harry mused.

"Tell him he can't always get what he wants," Ron said cheekily.

"Why don't you tell him, Weasley?" Draco snorted. "You might have a better chance of surviving."

"No thanks!" Ron blanched. "I'd rather not be made to scrub the floor all summer, or get whacked with his spoon."

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," Harry said, though secretly he wished for a girl too.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

Upon their return to the manor the next morning, Severus took the boys and Sarai back into the faerie realm so Sarai could be examined by Healer Auriane and the children could swim in the Pool of Restoration in the castle grotto.

While the boys and Nesmay soaked in the waters, Healer Auriane placed her hands upon Sarai's stomach, which was barely rounded, and concentrated. A pearly white glow spread out from the fae Healer's fingers and surrounded Sarai. A few moments later the glow died and Auriane stood, a smile coming over her face.

"Lady Sarai, I am pleased to announce that you have two viable fetus' in your womb. They are approximately four months old, give or take two weeks, and look very healthy. Congratulations, you soon shall be a mother."

"Twins?" Severus repeated, dazed. "She's having . . .twins?"

"Indeed, Lord Snape. It's quite rare for a fae-blood, even a half-fae to carry more than one child at a time, but the spell cannot lie. In about four months, you shall be holding your children in your arms. The Bright Ones have blessed you."

"Four months!" exclaimed the Potions Master. "But shouldn't it be five? And how did four months pass without my recalling it?"

"No, for the fae carry a child to term within eight months, that is how our bodies work. It may even be sooner, since twins often come early. As for how old they are, you conceived while within the Unseelie Lands, did you not, my lady? Time flows differently there, especially when tampered with by Jarillion the Cruel. So while you only spent a few weeks there as you understand time, it was actually much longer. Do you see, my lord?"

"Yes . . . I think so." Severus cleared his throat. "So . . . she'll be due in four months?"

"Yes. I shall give you Nutrient Potions with extra calcium in them and I shall come and see you every month to monitor the babies." Auriane said. "You should not use the Gates again till the children are born, it drains away magical strength too much."

"How about sparring with Severus or the boys and Nesmay?"

"You may do so for a few hours, it is good to keep fit. Make sure you eat healthy and rest when you feel tired. You may feel the need to sleep more as your pregnancy progresses. If you feel nauseous, drink raspberry leaf tea, no Stomach Soothers. Try and remain active for as long as possible, it shall make you stronger and the delivery easier." Auriane instructed. "Call me if there is any sudden cramping or bleeding or any pain. Other than that, you should be fine. The Queen shall be delighted to hear the good news, as will the rest of the court."

In the Seelie Court, children were cherished, and an impending birth was a thing to be celebrated, because it was so rare in the long-lived race.

The boys and Nesmay emerged from the pool, and Healer Kellin cast a monitoring charm over them to see how much dark residue was left within them. To his surprise, it was less than he had thought, and he told them that they need only return to the grotto three more times, as they were mending faster than expected.

Draco, Harry, and Nesmay were surprised to find out that Sarai was having twins, but then Draco said that was good, because they could have a little sister and a brother.

"Or maybe two sisters," Nesmay said.

"Or two brothers," Harry added.

"Whatever we have, all I care about is that they're healthy and so is Sarai," Severus said, and hugged his wife.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Severus opted to wait before using the timeclock, he wished the boys to finish their course of healing soaks in the grotto before sending them back in time to the beginning of the summer. It was the last week of July, and though the children were still under their groundings, Severus allowed Draco and Nesmay to accompany him to Diagon Alley to shop for Harry's birthday presents.

They left before Harry woke, Severus wanted to get an early start, and Harry woke to find Draco and Nesmay gone and when he went downstairs to get breakfast, only saw Sarai sitting at the table, nursing a cup of tea and eating a few pieces of toast and a hardboiled egg.

Cafall lay beside her chair, and wagged his tail happily when Harry entered. "Morning, Sarai. Where's Draco and Nesmay?"

"Good morning, Harry. They're with your father, I believe they went to Diagon Alley."

"They did? But why didn't they wake me?" Harry asked, feeling left out.

"Because the purpose of this trip was to buy birthday presents."

"Birthday presents?" Harry repeated. His brain was still half-asleep. "Oh!" He exclaimed, understanding now. He had gone for so many years without any that he often forgot he was supposed to get presents on his birthday.

He went and checked the color-coded chore chart posted on the wall of the kitchen, finding that his name had the following chores listed—_clean and sort the room in the lefthand wing that's filled with various odds and ends, door will be ajar. _That was followed by _Help Sarai weed the vegetable garden_ and _Clean up kitchen after supper_. Well, that didn't sound too bad.

Harry went and made himself a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich, eating that plus some fried potatoes and a merlinna. He drank a glass of milk with his breakfast, then rose to his feet. "I'm going to start on this room, Dad wants me to clean and sort it."

"Yes, he told me to tell you to just put things in piles and he will throw out what is junk and put the rest of it away. Meantime, I shall be gathering a few herbs for him to make some potions." Sarai said. She frowned, knowing there was something else she was supposed to give to Harry. "Ah! I almost forgot. Here is your restorative cordial." She handed Harry a small potion vial.

He nodded and drank it down.

Sarai stood and whistled for Cafall to follow, the half-grown dog happily bounded along beside her as she went out the back door to the garden.

Harry started down the hall, absently tucking the empty potion bottle into the pocket of his pajama bottoms. He decided not to dress, for he was sure to get dusty and he wanted to take a shower afterwards, no sense in getting two sets of clothing dirty.

When he entered the room, he found it was cluttered with all manner of boxes, bags, and trunks. Some of the items looked ancient and were covered with a thick coating of dust. The contents of some containers overflowed onto the floor. "Holy Merlin!" sighed the boy. "This is going to take all day!"

He Summoned a feather duster and animated it, then waited, covering his nose and mouth with his sleeve, for the duster to clear away the worst of the dust before he tackled the pile. Though he technically was not allowed to use magic outside of school, at the manor he could get away with it, since the Ministry couldn't penetrate the wards about the place and Severus had given him permission.

Once the dust was removed, Harry could begin sorting. He pulled over the nearest box and began to analyze its contents. Books went in one pile, broken quills and empty ink bottles in another, odds and ends he didn't know what to call in yet another. He found several old potion bottles, some half-full of elixirs, and made a separate pile for those. He made a fifth pile for clothing—cloaks, shirts, boots. Some of the clothes looked moth eaten, others looked as if they had just come out of Madam Malkins. Those he suspected were enchanted.

He used the first box to toss all the trash into.

He found all manner of curious things in the room as he sorted—magical toys, bits and pieces of gears and bolts, a broken chair, something that looked like a wig, a cracked mirror, even some jewelry. He paused to rest after an hour, and went back to the kitchen for a drink.

The room was now halfway done, and when Harry returned he spotted a large rolled up rug with a tag sticking on it. He read the tag. _Aliman's Flying Carpet! Will take you anywhere your heart desires, simply sit on it and say fly me away. Not meant for children under eleven._

"A flying carpet!" Harry grinned.

He couldn't resist trying it out.

He unrolled the rug, it had a pattern of birds, camels, and castles on it and was brightly colored. Then he sat crosslegged on it, like Aladdin, and said, "Fly me away!"

The rug quivered and then rose into the air and hovered about ten feet above the floor. Harry tried directing it as though it were a broom. The carpet shot off, zipping about the room.

At first it was fun, but then Harry tried to get it to land so he could continue his chore, his father would not be pleased if he came home and found Harry playing with a magic carpet instead of working, and found he couldn't figure out the command to make the rug stop flying.

"Down!"

"Halt!"

"Land!"

The carpet kept right on flying. If anything, it flew faster. "No! No! Slow down!"

The carpet rounded a corner, flew up almost to the ceiling and then flipped over.

Harry yelled, terrified he was going to fall off. The rug righted itself and began circling again. He pounded on it with a fist. "Stop! You stupid rug, stop! You're out of control!"

The carpet nose-dived towards the floor, pulled up at the last second, stalled in mid air, then tilted to one side.

Harry fell off, landing with a thud on his behind and hip on the floor.

He felt something break beneath him and then a sudden sharp pain shot through him. "OWW!"

Only then did he remember the potion vial in his pocket.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the traitorous rug roll up and land innocently on the floor.

"Bloody carpet!" Harry swore. He felt as if a thousand needles were stabbing him.

The sound of the crash and his cry of pain soon brought Sarai to investigate.

"Harry, what happened?"

Blushing, Harry said, "The carpet bucked me off and I . . . sat on the potion bottle in my pocket. I think I've got glass stuck in my bum."

Sarai knelt and gently rolled Harry over onto his stomach. "I'm afraid so, child."

Some five minutes later, Harry was bent over the kitchen table, whimpering and gritting his teeth, while his stepmother removed the glass shards from his hip and buttock.

He wished he could die, he felt so embarrassed. Sarai had given him a Pain Reliever and numbed the area somewhat with a spell before getting some tweezers and extracting the shards, but he could still feel twinges of pain as she tugged a shard loose.

"Oww!"

"Be still, Harry. I'm almost finished."

"I was so stupid! I should have known that's why the dumb carpet was left in there, because it was a piece of junk," Harry groaned, flinching.

"Sometimes, Harry, the best teacher is experience. I'm sure you'll remember this and not be so foolish again."

"I won't! Ahh . . .Sarai, have you done this before?"

The warrior chuckled. "Many times, Harry. When Prince Balin came of age, his greatest ambition was to celebrate in all the alehouses and taverns throughout the kingdom. I was his Blade, and charged with keeping him safe. Unfortunately, not even my vigilance could keep him safe from himself, and many times he became involved in barroom brawls, where bottles of heather ale or summerdew were broken over my wild prince's head or backside. Or chairs. So I have plenty of practice pulling splinters of wood and glass out of scalps and backsides. A good thing too, else this would hurt more."

A minute later Sarai was finished; she sponged off the blood and then she applied some disinfectant potion to the cuts, warning Harry it was going to hurt.

At first, Harry felt nothing, for the numbing spell was still working. Then all at once he howled, for his backside and hip felt like it were engulfed in flames, his feet drumming on the floor.

Sarai rubbed his back soothingly. "I'm sorry, son. 'Twill pass, child. 'Twill pass."

Cafall began barking and howling also, thinking Sarai was deliberately hurting his master.

"Cafall, hush! He'll be all right. Down!" she ordered, for the dog had jumped up on the table and was licking Harry's cheek, whining worriedly.

But he got down when Sarai pointed, sitting on the floor, his expression troubled.

Harry gasped, tears streaming from his eyes. Finally the awful stinging abated, and Sarai smoothed on a Wound Healing paste and gently Stuck a bandage over the cuts. "There! Why don't you lie down, Harry? The salve will take an hour to mend those cuts. I'll tell your dad what happened, and you can finish your chores later."

She helped Harry to his feet and stroked his hair. Harry leaned into her for a moment. It was strange, but he now felt more at ease with the warrior than before. She had shown herself to be both competent and compassionate, he found he trusted her to help him. He allowed her to lead him to bed, lying on his stomach.

Sarai arranged the covers over him and murmured, "Sleep well, Harry."

Harry buried his face in the pillow, and an instant later felt a warm tongue lave his cheek, as Cafall curled up beside the bed. Harry trailed his hand over the hound's back, than fell fast asleep.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"He did _what_?" Severus repeated, one eyebrow rising. "I cannot believe he would do something so . . . irresponsible. I have told him a thousand times to never put potion vials or his wand in his back pocket. Or to play with magical items without checking with me first." The professor shook his head disappointedly. "He always has to learn everything the hard way."

"Nevertheless, he regrets his actions and doesn't need you reprimanding him, Severus. He just needs your understanding."

"Where is he? How is he feeling?"

"Asleep in his room. The cuts should be mended by supper or earlier."

"Good. I shall speak to him after he wakes." He turned to look at Draco and Nesmay. "Nesmay, will you put the presents in my room? You can help wrap them after you've weeded the vegetable patch. Draco, would you mind finishing up the room that Harry was working on? Don't worry about your other chores, you can do them tomorrow or the next day."

"All right, Dad." Draco agreed.

"Yes, sir." Nesmay took the packages and walked down the hall to Severus and Sarai's bedroom.

Severus looked at his wife. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I am fine. A little tired, but otherwise I am well. This pregnancy seems to agree with me so far."

Her husband smiled at her. "Hopefully it continues to be so. I spoke with Ollivander today and he has agreed to allow the boys to return to the shop and assist him for five more days, and that will repay the damage Nesmay did."

"Good. I have placed the herbs you needed in your lab."

"Thank you. I shall begin brewing the teas immediately. Go take a nap."

"I'm not tired. Don't become all overprotective now, Severus. I know when I need to rest."

"Since when? You're the template for a woman who works too much."

"That is the cauldron calling the kettle black," Sarai shot back.

"True, but I am not the one with child."

Sarai's eyes narrowed. "Don't even go there, Snape. I am no helpless maiden."

"I never said you were. All I meant was that you need to be careful not to overexert yourself." Severus protested.

"I shall be. Get to your lab and brew, my Lord Snape, before you really put your boot in your mouth," his wife said. Then she kissed him lightly before removing her two long knives from her belt and beginning to polish them.

Severus wisely obeyed. Auriane had warned him that pregnant women tended to get emotional over the least things during the fourth and fifth months, it had to do with hormonal shifts. He went to his lab to begin brewing some of the herbal blends that Auriane had recommended Sarai drink, as well as a cauldron of Cough Elixir and some Extra Strength Fever Reducers, since he needed to restock his medicine cabinet.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

"Poor Harry!" Nesmay murmured to Draco as she went out the back door to weed the garden. "That must have been painful."

"Yes, but it was probably more embarrassing for him," Draco commented. "I would have been mortified if Sarai had to . . . um . . . remove glass from my backside."

Nesmay looked puzzled. "Draco, can you explain why you mortals are so . . . uncomfortable with your bodies around women? I don't understand. Among my people, we see our bodies as things to be . . . admired and a natural state . . .I mean, there are a few obvious differences, but . . . you act like you're ashamed of them. And you really shouldn't be."

Draco coughed. "Err . . . maybe you ought to ask Severus those questions?"

"No! He will only say that such questions are improper. Why can't you answer them?"

Draco sighed. "I . . . guess I can. But later. Right now I'd better finish this up."

Nesmay stuck her tongue out at him. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Draco. Tonight I'm coming to your room and you'd better have an answer for me, or else I'll . . . I'll embarrass you in front of Hermione!"

"Why, you sneaky little blackmailer!" He shook his finger at her. "Damn, but you'd have made a good Slytherin, you wretched girl."

"That's what comes of dealing with the likes of Malchiar, big brother." Nesmay smirked, then she darted outside.

"Incorrigible brat!" muttered the Slytherin. Then he made his way to the room Harry had been sorting.

Forewarned about the carpet, Draco quickly placed it in what he labeled Miscellaneous Objects. He then tackled the rest of the pile. In an hour and a half, he had almost finished the room. He only had a single trunk left to go through. He opened it and found several old linens, which smelled rather moldy and he tossed them into the scrap pile. There was a small oblong box that was locked, frowning, Draco cast an Unlocking Charm.

Upon opening the chest he saw a medium sized pearlescent globe. He picked it up and felt it grow warm, and then he sneezed, for there was something about the globe that triggered his sneezing reflex. At first Draco thought it a standard seeing globe, but when he went to set it back in the chest, the globe suddenly crumbled to dust.

"Huh? What the hell happened?" Draco stared down at the white glittery powder, dismayed. "Oh, well. Whatever it is, it's gone now." He put the chest in the Miscellaneous pile.

Dusting off his hands, he rose to his feet, task completed.

He headed into the bathroom, ready to take a shower, and on the way he stopped by Harry's room to see how he was doing. He found Harry still asleep, one hand hanging off the side of the bed. Draco reached over and picked up Harry's arm, placing it on the bed.

Cafall thumped his tail and whined, he was now sprawled on the bed, on top of Harry's feet.

"Hey, boy. Keeping my little brother company? I'll come play with you after my shower, all right?"

The misthound barked softly, his ears perking up. He was ready to get some exercise, having lain beside Harry for over two hours.

"Wait here, Cafall," Draco ordered and went away.

About ten minutes later, Draco returned and Cafall followed. They played outside until lunch, Draco threw sticks for the dog to retrieve and hid treats for the misthound to find. Once he had tired the frisky hound out, Draco returned to the house, where he ate lunch with Sarai and Nesmay. Harry was still sleeping, and Severus busy brewing and couldn't be interrupted.

Sarai had made a tasty strawberry salad, with produce gathered from their garden, and also bread with butter.

Severus came in from his lab, his brewing finished, and asked if Harry was awake yet.

"No, he's still asleep," answered his wife. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes." He accepted the plate she handed him and served himself some salad and bread.

After he had finished eating, he went to check on his son.

Nesmay dragooned Draco into helping her wrap Harry's birthday presents, and Sarai asked Smidgen to deliver a message to her parents telling them they were about to become grandparents.

Severus entered Harry's room on cat's feet, and stood by his son's bed. The boy slept, looking peaceful. Severus gently smoothed back the hair on his son's forehead and whispered, "Harry, Harry. Will you ever stop finding trouble? At this rate my hair will be white before you're of age."

The professor gently drew back the covers and Harry's pajama bottoms to examine his son. There were no marks, the salve had healed all the cuts. Sarai had done a good job, he thought, replacing everything. Not that he doubted her skill, she had a soldier's knowledge of field medicine, and some two hundred years of experience besides, but he felt better making sure his son was healing properly.

Just as he was about to turn and leave, Harry woke. "Dad? Is that you?"

"Yes. How are you feeling?"

Harry picked up his glasses and put them on, then slowly shifted and sat up. "I'm all right now," he said, relief in his tone. Then he dropped his eyes and muttered, "I guess Sarai told you how stupid I was, huh?"

"She did. I trust you understand now why I stress never put a potion vial or anything even remotely breakable in your back pocket?"

"Yes." Harry said ruefully. His stomach rumbled. "I'm hungry, what time is it?"

"We have just finished lunch. Why don't you go and eat?"

Harry hurried down to the kitchen, where Sarai was washing up, and made himself a sandwich. He was relieved his father hadn't yelled at him for his idiocy. He had learned his lesson for good this time.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

Harry was washing up the dishes after supper, which Severus had cooked that night, when Draco gently teased him, saying, "Be careful, little brother, and don't drop any plates. You might slip and fall and you want to be able to sit down, now don't you?"

Harry shot him a dirty look. "Real funny, Draco."

The Slytherin smirked. Then he told Harry he was going to take a nap, he was tired after finishing the room Harry had been working on. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you deliberately got glass in your ass to get out of finishing that room."

"Bite me, Draco," Harry snapped, and flicked a wet dish cloth at him.

Draco ducked and escaped down the hallway. Once he reached his room, he went to lie down. His head was throbbing and he felt a bit dizzy. He thought about getting a Headache Remedy from the bathroom cabinet, but was too lazy to get up. It would probably go away once he slept some. And if he were sleeping, he could avoid answering Nesmay's questions. He shut his eyes and within moments was asleep.

Harry and Nesmay were scrubbing cauldrons in the lab, it was part of their punishment chores. Actually, that night it was Draco's turn to scrub cauldrons, but Harry was doing it because Draco had finished his work that afternoon. Harry never minded scrubbing cauldrons, he was quite good at it, and Draco detested it.

All of a sudden, he put a hand to his head.

Nesmay, ever alert, saw and asked, "What's wrong? Does your scar hurt?"

"No, it hasn't hurt since . . . Voldemort was killed. I just have a bit of a headache and I'm a little dizzy."

"Maybe you ought to sit down."

"Nah. I'm almost done." Harry finished rinsing his cauldron, then made his way carefully upstairs.

"All finished?" asked his father when he appeared in the den.

"Yes, sir. But I'm feeling sort of . . . tired and I have a bit of a headache. I'm going to turn in early." Harry told him.

Severus peered at him. "You look pale. Do you need a Headache Remedy?"

Harry thought about it. "Umm . . . okay." He went down the hall to the bathroom and took a vial and drank it down. Then he went into his room. He shivered suddenly and went to close the half-open window now that Hedwig was inside for the night upon her perch. He gave the sleepy owl a scratch on the neck before changing his clothes and getting into fresh nightwear. Then he went to lay on his bed. He still felt chilled, and he pulled up the covers to his chin and drifted into a doze.

Nesmay came down the hall into the den. "Where's Harry and Draco?"

"I think they both went to bed early. They seem to be somewhat under the weather," Severus replied. "Did you lock up the lab?"

"Yes, Severus. Will you play Wizard Chess with me? Or Dragon's Wild?"

He set down his potions periodical. "If you'd like. Sarai, care to join us?"

Sarai yawned. "I'm a little sleepy, Sev. I think I'll just sit here in front of the fire."

"As you wish. Nesmay, set up the board."

They played chess until Nesmay lost for the third time, she actually lasted longer than her brothers, but in the end Severus checkmated her. When Nesmay would have played a fourth game, Severus shook his head.

"Another time, child. I'm developing a headache, I think I had better retire also." He massaged his temples, figuring he had done too much and that was why he too had a headache. He Summoned a Headache Remedy and swallowed it, then went to his bedroom.

Bored, Nesmay decided to take a walk about the grounds. Unlike her brothers and foster father, she could see quite well in the dark, a trait she had inherited from her fae mother.

An hour later she returned to the manor, feeling a little tired and achy herself. She decided to see if Draco was awake and slipped into his room.

But he was still sleeping. Sighing impatiently, she leaned over to wake him, determined to get the answers to her earlier questions. It was then she noticed that he was shivering wildly and whimpering. "Draco? Draco, are you sick?"

The blond boy groaned and opened his eyes. "Nesmay? I . . . don't feel so good. I feel like I'm freezing to death and my back and neck hurt."

"You must have caught some kind of . . . wizard flu. I'll get Sarai."

The girl raced down the hall to the den, where Sarai was dozing peacefully in front of the fire. She hated to wake the other woman, but knew this was an emergency. She gently shook Sarai's shoulder and called, "Sarai, wake up! Draco's sick."

The warrior was instantly awake, one hand reaching for her sword. But then she recalled she was in her own home and there was no danger. "Nesmay? What is it?"

"Draco's sick. He's shivering like crazy and said he's achy and I think he may have a fever."

"Hmm. I'll see what Severus says to give him," Sarai said, she was not as well-versed in healing potions as her husband.

"Sev?" she called softly as she entered their room. It was dim, for her husband hadn't bothered to turn on all the lights. She quickly muttered "Lumos!" and the lights came on to reveal Severus tossing and turning, shivering as well. "Sun, Moon, and Stars! Don't tell me you're sick too!" She bent and shook Severus awake.

The lean Potions Master woke instantly, his hand reaching for his wand. "Sarai?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Draco is sick and I wanted to know if I should give him a Fever Reducer and some Pain Reliever?"

"What are his symptoms?" asked Severus.

"Nesmay said he complained about freezing and that his back and neck hurt. It would seem you have caught it as well."

Severus grimaced, he so hated being sick. "Obviously. Give him the Fever Reducer and Pain Reliever and make sure he drinks plenty of water. I can dose myself." He started to get out of bed.

"No, Sev. Stay there. I'll have Nesmay bring you the potions and some water." His wife ordered firmly.

Then she went to fetch the potions.

Draco felt awful, he was hardly ever sick, and he took the potions eagerly, hoping to be better by tomorrow. Nesmay brought Severus his, then went to see how Harry was faring.

"Oh no!" she gasped upon finding Harry shivering violently and complaining of aches and pains as well. "You're all sick!"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked blearily.

"I mean you, Draco, and Severus have all caught whatever-this-is." Nesmay told him. "Sarai and I are the only ones who haven't."

"Better stay away from me then," warned Harry.

"You need potions too." Nesmay said, and went to fetch some.

Once Harry had taken them, she went to inform Sarai that all three wizards were ill. "It's a good thing Severus brewed up fresh batches of potions," the girl said.

"Yes. How do you feel, Nesmay?" Sarai asked.

"A little tired but I don't have a headache and I'm not freezing."

"Why don't you go to bed early, just in case? I don't need you coming down with this also." Sarai ordered firmly. "I shall ask Smidgen to monitor the boys and I shall watch Sev."

Nesmay hesitated, then agreed, not wanting to make things harder for Sarai. "You get some sleep too," she said. "The last thing we need is for you to get sick."

"Just so, little hedgehog." She hugged Nesmay before sending her off to bed.

There was something about the symptoms of this disease that nagged at her, but she couldn't put a finger on why. It seemed to be extremely contagious though, considering that all three wizards had fallen ill in less than twenty-four hours. She was puzzled as to why Nesmay had not, but the girl displayed no symptoms. Then again, the fae were not normally prey to sickness, and Nesmay took after Aislinn a great deal.

Sarai started to get into bed with Severus, who was sleeping restlessly, but then decided to sleep on the sofa, just in case. "Smidgen," she called softly.

The shimmerling appeared in an eyeblink, hovering before her. _:Lady Sarai, what is wrong?:_

"I need you to monitor Harry and Draco, Smidgen. They and Severus have come down with a wizard illness and I wish to make certain they don't need anything during the night. Would you mind helping me?"

_:Not at all. Poor things! Mortals are so prone to diseases. Oh, before I forget, your parents send their congratulations and love, and your mother tells me to tell you that you are in her thoughts and prayers often and she is looking forward to having grandchildren to spoil.:_

"Thank you, Smidgen." Sarai said gratefully. "Would you like a bite to eat before your vigil?"

_:Certainly.:_

Sarai placed tiny pieces of sausage and some milk with honey in Smidgen's saucers and the shimmerling ate her fill. Then she gave herself a brief wash and then blinked away to Draco's room, as he was the most ill, she decided to stay in his room, and monitor Harry by dreamscape. The shimmerling settled down atop Draco's desk, purring and eyeing the young wizard in concern.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

Some three hours later, Sarai woke and padded into her bedroom to check on Severus. She could hear the man's teeth chattering from all the way across the room and quickly crossed to him. She gently lay a hand upon his forehead and winced. "Damn! Sev, you're burning up."

Severus opened his eyes then. "Sarai? You shouldn't be here. You might catch this too and you can't afford to get sick."

"Severus, I have a higher resistance to disease than you."

"No! If I infect you and something happens to the babies . . ." He half-tried to get up, but Sarai pushed him down.

"Lie down, Sev! You're in no condition to go anywhere. Take this." She handed him a green vial. "Try and relax, I'm going to see about Draco and Harry, they're sick too."

Severus swore, but he was too sick to really work up a temper, and he was so exhausted he doubted if he could stand right then. "Sarai, take care."

"I will. Now sleep, beloved. Sleep is the best medicine." She gently kissed his fevered brow before departing.

Severus sank into sleep, but his dreams were unpleasant.

The half-fae warrior started towards the boys' room, and no sooner had she done so, then Smidgen sent to her that Draco was worse and so was Harry. _:I'm coming.:_ Sarai sent back.

Draco was tossing and turning in the grip of a very high fever, Sarai could tell he was worse off than Severus because he was flushed and his skin had a strange unhealthy yellowish tinge to it. He was moaning softly, his blond hair drenched with sweat, yet his fever refused to break.

Sarai shook him awake. "Draco, wake up. You need to swallow this potion."

"No . . . I'm so hot . . .so hot . . ."

"I know. Come on, drink." She urged, gently tipping the potion into his mouth. She then gave him water and bathed his face and neck with a cool cloth. He seemed to rest a bit easier afterwards, though his breathing was raspy.

She then gave the same treatment to Harry, noting that he was slightly less worse than Draco, but still quite ill. His sheets were soaked with sweat and his eyes glassy with fever. Sarai managed to get him out of bed long enough to change both sheets and pajamas and then let him rest.

_:Smidgen, do you recognize any of these symptoms? Can you tell me what disease this is?:_

The fae cat perched on her shoulder and gave a soft mew of distress. _:Regrettably, I cannot. Though I was there when many plagues and the like swept through the mortal world, this matches none of those I witnessed. And as I said, there were many of them, too many for me to keep track of.:_

"I understand. But this plague seems so familiar to me. As if I read about it before, but I can't remember where. Perhaps my mother told me about it? No, she was no witch, but a noblewoman." Sarai mused, cudgeling her brain.

_:I shall return to keep watch, lady. You ought to rest, before you fall ill yourself.:_ Then Smidgen blinked away.

Sarai knew Smidgen was right, but how could she rest when her husband and sons were so ill? She forced herself to return to the sofa, but even curled up beneath a blanket in front of the fire did not serve to make her sleepy. This was not an enemy she was used to fighting. It was faceless, nameless, and yet it threatened those she loved in the worst way. Give her an honest orc or frost giant or UnSeelie any day of the week over this bloody plague!

She absently rubbed a hand over her middle, and murmured, "At least two of you are safe. I hope."

She blinked and yawned, rubbing her eyes. When she opened them again, a slightly misty figure dressed in the fashion of the Seelie Court centuries ago was standing before her, he had long black hair and emerald eyes, which were almond shaped and slightly pointed ears peeked out from beneath his hair.

_Greetings, Lady Sarai Kinsalari Snape. My name is Sev Prince, and I am the Guardian of Prince Manor. Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner, but when one dwells between two realms, it is easy to lose track of the hours. Welcome, lady to the family. _The ghost gave her a courtly bow.

"You are the first Prince, the one who wandered all over the mortal realm and that of faerie. Severus speaks very highly of you."

_Yes, and I am pleased by it. But that is not the only reason I have come to you tonight. Normally, I do not interfere much with my descendants, as they are free to make their own choices and mistakes, but in this case, I must, before lives are lost. I know the plague that has stricken down Severus, Harry, and young Draco. Once it was widespread across the wizarding world, found in Britain, Scotland, Europe, even Russia. It was known as the golden plague, and before a cure was found, brought death to one in five wizards and witches. It bred one of the worst magical epidemics ever known, and wiped out whole families before several talented Healers developed a vaccine for it. Those who survived were usually those who bore a strain of fae blood in them, for the fae are, as you well know, immune to disease._

"Then I cannot contract this? Or Nesmay?"

_No. Your fae blood predominates, and as such, renders you immune. The symptoms of the golden plague are as follows—headache, violent chills, sharp pains in the back, neck, shoulders, followed by a high fever with sweating yet the fever does not break. The skin begins to turn a golden color, indicating the wizard's liver functions are being compromised as well as their magical core. Exhaustion predominates and if not brought down, the fever can cause convulsions, blindness, and death. The first twenty-four hours are crucial. _

"Where can I obtain this vaccine? Do you know the formula for the potion?"

_Alas, no. I was not privy to that information, I was a wandering bard, not a Healer. I know only that a cure was found and it was what finally defeated this dreadful malady._ Sev Prince looked sorrowful and grave. _Might I suggest asking a Healer in Titania's court?_

"Yes, of course! I shall do so immediately!" Sarai exclaimed. She then called Smidgen through the mindlink and asked her to please find Healer Auriane and tell her that the Snape family had contracted the golden plague and needed the vaccine for it, or else they could die.

Once Smidgen had gone, Sarai wondered how she was going to monitor all three wizards, until Sev offered his expertise. Sarai supposed she could manage until Smidgen returned with the Healer.

Hours passed, and Sarai dozed, her sleep fitful, broken by frequent trips to examine Severus, Draco, and Harry.

Out of all of them, Draco was the worst, he hallucinated and burned like a furnace, his body coated with a foul-smelling sweat, and raved about being in hell with his father and mother, and he pleaded over and over, "I'm not the Death Eater's son! I'm not the Death Eater's son!"

His skin began to take on the golden pigment the Prince ghost had warned about. Sarai could do nothing save hold his hand and speak soothingly to him. She tried to dose him again with a Fever Reducer, but he sputtered and choked on it.

She prayed to the Bright Lord and Lady that Auriane would be in time. Draco seemed to be progressing far faster than Harry and Severus. Sarai speculated that might be because the Malfoy's weren't as closely related to their fae ancestors by blood. She recalled with chilling preciseness that Sev Prince had told her that only those with fae blood had survived.

She began to pace up and down the hall, trying to relieve her anxiety, the minutes ticking away in her head. Her hand clenched and unclenched as she wished she could take away the pain and sickness from her family.

Finally, she decided to return to Severus's side, as she could not get the plague, and that was when she heard a loud thump, as of something—or someone—falling.

"Sev!" she called, racing into the room.

Severus was sitting on the floor, his eyes glazed and bright with fever. His hair was plastered to his head and he struggled to his feet, his skin beginning to turn gold. "Get out!" he rasped. "Save yourself! I must . . . find the children!"

"Sev, stop," she told the delirious wizard, pushing him back towards the bed. "Lie down. The children are safe. I'm safe. Now get back in bed."

He fought her for a moment, his mouth creasing stubbornly. "Need to help . . ."

"You can help best by lying down. Are you hurt?"

"No. What . . . are you doing?" he asked, confused.

"That's a question you should be answering." Sarai muttered. "You're sick, Severus. You need to rest. That's right. Lie down."

"Don't feel right . . . my head hurts . . . dizzy . . ." he mumbled, swaying back and forth.

She managed to get him to sit down, and after a few more moments, to lie back as well. When she finally got him horizontal and the covers tucked about him, she sighed. "You're as bad a patient as any of your sons, Severus Snape," she grumbled.

"Harry! Draco! Where . . .?"

She immediately placed both hands on his shoulders. "No, you're not getting up. Stay in bed! I'll sit on you if I have to. Understand? Harry and Draco are sleeping. Sleeping."

A flicker of comprehension lit the dark eyes. "Sleeping . . . safe . . . not hurt?"

"They're safe," she reassured. "Rest, Sev. Rest so you can get better."

He heaved a sigh, then began to shiver violently. "Cold . . . so cold . . . in the Wastelands . . ."

She went and got a wet cool cloth from the bathroom and sponged him down as his teeth chattered. He was hot enough that the water barely cooled his skin. She continued to run the cool cloth over him, while he tossed his head from side to side and groaned about how cold he was and then how hot. His body was fighting the disease, but it wasn't enough. She crawled into bed, holding him, and whispered, "Severus, fight this . . . please . . ." She was petrified he might die.

"Lady Sarai . . ." a soft voice called in the fae tongue.

"Healer Auriane, I'm in here . . .!" she called back in the same tongue.

Auriane appeared in the doorway, carrying a familiar white leather satchel. "My apologies, it took longer to brew than I had figured." The Healer came over to the bed and said quickly, "It appears he's reached the crisis stage. Here, help me sit him up."

Together, they got Severus into a sitting position, and Auriane put the vial to his lips and urged him to swallow.

"Can't . . ." he rasped. "Hurts . . ."

"You must. Only a little, Sev." Sarai whispered. "For me."

His eyes refocused on her. "Sarai . . ." He swallowed.

The potion worked fast, soothing his inflamed throat, and he swallowed readily after that first dose.

Once the vial was empty, Auriane said, "If we were in time, his fever should break in a few moments. At this stage, the cure can tip the scales."

"Why is this disease progressing so quickly?"

"It does that in adults. His body is fighting it, and because of his fae blood, it hastens the process." The Healer put two fingers on Severus' neck, counting silently.

Suddenly, Severus shuddered, and then the golden tinge faded and a cool sweat broke over him. "There, my lady! It has broken. Feel, he is cool!"

Sarai did, and almost wept in relief. "What now?"

"Wash him off and let him rest. I'll go and see the boys." Auriane said, moving quickly down the hall, leaving Sarai alone to weep silent tears of gratitude over the sleeping wizard.

"I have administered the draft to both of them," Auriane said, as Sarai reached Harry's room. "But it won't take effect as quickly with them, since they aren't at the crisis stage. It could be an hour or so yet before we see any kind of result."

They waited, and Sarai frowned down at Harry, who seemed to be burning up and shivering. "It seems as though he's getting worse. Why?"

"Sometimes they need to get worse before they get better." Auriane said calmly.

Sarai then went into Draco's room. But the blond seemed unchanged, he was unnaturally hot and his breathing was raspy, his skin still that odd golden color. "Auriane, why doesn't he seem to be responding to the potion?"

The Healer frowned. "I do not know. Have you any knowledge where they might have contracted this? This plague was well-night eradicated as of last century. Have there been reports of an outbreak in the papers?"

"No. Not that I know of. They all just became sick suddenly."

"Odd. This disease is passed through touch, an infected person touching another, or touching an object with the plague germs upon it." Auriane told her. "Have they been in contact with any strangers lately?"

"They've been here at the manor, except for today, when Draco, Sev, and Nesmay went shopping . . ."

"Hmm . . . they could have met with someone who is infected that way, but as I said, there have been no new cases of this disease in centuries. . . It would have had to be acquired through some kind of object, as those who survive are immune and cannot spread the infection afterwards."

More time passed, and Harry passed the crisis stage and his fever broke as well.

Sarai breathed again. "He's going to be all right! What of Draco?"

"Still no change."

"Why? He was the first to show symptoms."

Auriane laid her hand upon the still comatose boy. "His magical reserves are almost gone. Do you have a replenishing draft?"

"Yes, Severus keeps them in this cabinet." Sarai rose and went to fetch one from the bathroom.

Once Draco had swallowed it he seemed to rally a little.

"That should help. Odd, though, that he came down with it first and is the last to recover. It's almost as if . . . he was exposed longer or something."

"Can you not give him another dose of the antidote?" a hoarse voice said. "Please, save my child, Healer."

Sarai spun about so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. There, standing in the doorway looking like death warmed over, was Severus. The gold color was gone from his skin, leaving it parchment pale, and his eyes were bright with the awful knowledge no parent should ever have to accept. "Sev! How did you—"

His hand lifted, and the Medallion of Inheritance flashed in his fist. "This. It woke me, warning that one of my blood was in mortal peril. When I touched it, I knew." He sucked in a breath. "I went . . . to Harry first . . . and removed his . . . so he wouldn't know . . . if . . ." He trailed off, his eyes bleak. Then he made his way to the bed where stricken Draco lay and sat upon it.

Auriane bit her lip, then moved forward and with Severus assisting, poured a second dose of the cordial down the boy's throat. "I have done what I can, Severus Snape. If this fever does not break soon . . ." For an instant, her professional façade cracked, and there were tears in her eyes. "I am sorry."

"I know." Severus hissed, then he moved and pulled the dying child into his arms, holding him close. "Draco, you must fight . . .do not leave me . . .fight . . .Dragon . . . do you hear? You can do it . . . live . . ."

Draco moaned, shaking so hard Sarai feared he would fly to pieces. Severus held him tightly, his face a mask of silent agony. All at once, Draco's eyes opened. He looked straight at Severus and whispered, "Dad, I'm so cold . . . where are you?"

"Here, Dragon. I'm right here."

Sarai came and sat next to Severus, taking Draco's hand in her own. His skin was on fire, but she gripped it tightly. The boy's spirit floated upon a knife edge. "Draco, come back." She tapped into her magic and let a trickle flow into him.

"I'm scared . . . I don't want to be alone . . ."

"You aren't. Come back to us. Can you feel this?" she sent another pulse of magic into him.

"Warm . . . a blue light . . ." he raved.

"Yes . . . now follow the light back . . . come home . . ."

"Come home to us . . ." Severus added, and his own hands glowed with a trickle of magic. He had never felt so helpless. He knew it would not be enough.

The boy's gray eyes burned intently. "I'm coming . . ."

"My lord Snape . . .!" Auriane cried, for the Potions Master was dangerously close to draining his magic core.

All at once Draco spasmed violently, his muscles locked, his back arching.

"No!" Severus howled.

A moment later the boy went limp in his arms.

Severus' heart nearly stopped. "Draco . . ."

"Sev . . . his fever's broken! It's all right . . .!" Sarai hugged him, her eyes swimming with tears.

Severus' hand gently traced his son's cheek. "It's cool . . .damp, but cool . . ."

Draco's eyelids fluttered, he opened them. "Dad . . ." he looked at Severus, then at Sarai. "Mum . . .I've come home . . ." His head sagged against his father's chest and he drifted back to sleep, his body worn from his fight against the golden plague.

"Draco!" Severus called, alarmed.

"Shhh . . . he is sleeping." Auriane reassured him. "He is quite weak, but he'll recover." Then she smiled. "He's a fighter, like his parents."

Severus stared down at his son, whose skin was slowly losing its jaundiced tinge, and whispered, "Thank God." The medallion against his chest was cool. Relief speared him, that his child had been spared, how he knew not. Then he lowered his head and cried, tears spattering like rain drops across Draco's face.

**Hope you all liked! My whole family and I went through Hurricane Irene and all are safe and sound, thank God! **


	68. The Runespoor's Hatchlings

**68**

**The Runespoor's Hatchlings**

Auriane left several Strengthening potions and Magic Replenishers for her patients to take, saying she would return in two days to check upon them again, and she told Sarai to send Smidgen to her if anything untoward happened in the meantime. It took a bit of persuading on Sarai's part to convince her husband to let Draco sleep and come back to bed.

"Sev, you're still sick yourself, now come back and rest. You'll do Draco and Harry no good if you exhaust yourself," she urged. "I can set up a Monitoring Charm, and if they need us during the night, it or Sev Prince shall wake us."

The Potion Master's eyes were two burned holes in his head, and he felt terrible, all achy and weak, his recent outpouring of tears hadn't helped his condition any, for now he also had a stuffed up nose. He couldn't ever recall being so sick, then again he had never contracted the golden plague before. Once more he thanked God for his life and the lives of his sons. Then a horrifying thought occurred to him.

"Sarai, you were taking care of all of us . . . could you catch this . . . or the babies?"

"No. Because of my fae blood, I am immune, as are the children I carry, for they share my immunity in the womb. Nesmay too is immune, thank the Bright Ones. Come, Sev, back to bed. We can discuss things in the morning. You will feel much better after a good rest, and so will I."

Severus allowed himself to be helped back to bed, though normally he would have stubbornly refused assistance. "I still don't understand something," he muttered through a yawn as he lay back down.

Sarai slid into bed next to him, curling close beside him. "Severus, rest."

"I will, no need to keep badgering me as if I were one of the children," he grumbled.

"You are acting as stubborn as one of the children now," she informed him wryly. "Go to sleep."

Severus huffed softly. "I don't understand how we could have contracted a plague that has been eradicated for centuries."

"Could you have picked it up while you were out shopping in Diagon Alley?"

"Perhaps. But . . . there would have been some indication if there were an outbreak of the disease."

"Perhaps it was too early to tell." Sarai answered. "Sev, you aren't going to figure this out tonight. I am too tired to puzzle out how any of you came down with this, I am just grateful you all survived it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to sleep."

"I suppose I ought to follow your example," he conceded, then pulled his wife close and closed his eyes, falling asleep an instant later.

Everyone slept through the night and well into the next morning, except for Nesmay, who rose at her usual time of seven o'clock in the morning. Finding everyone else still snoozing, she ate some fruit and toast and decided to get a head start on her morning chores, which were weeding the herb garden and cooking breakfast. She was eager to try out some recipes Molly had taught her, but was unsure if she ought to wait until the rest of the family was awake before beginning.

She opted to weed the garden first, and slipped her feet into some rubber garden shoes, which were in a bin next to the back door, and headed outside. The morning mist was just rising off the lake, and the air was damp, but held the promise of becoming warm and sunny. Nesmay hurried down the path and reached the herb garden a moment later.

She set to, gently pulling the weeds from among the young plants, the herb garden had ordinary herbs—like marjoram, basil, mint, lavender, parsley, basil, and garlic on one side, and magical ones on the other. She was halfway done when she heard an odd hissing noise from behind.

She drew her wand and turned to face whatever had come into the garden.

To her shock, she saw a large three-headed serpent curled upon the path, a runespoor from the look of it. She clutched her wand and tried to think of a spell that would repel the dangerous reptile, when the largest head spoke.

"Greetings, little one. I am Azeal, and these are my mate, Azella, and my brother-kin Ashterith. We s-s-seek the S-Speaker known as Harry S-Snape. Know you his whereabouts-s?"

Nesmay was so startled, she nearly dropped her wand. For she understood the serpent's hiss as if it were speaking the fae tongue. "You speak the fae tongue?"

"Nay, but you are also a S-Speaker, youngling!"

"Me?" Nesmay was flabbergasted.

"Another S-Speaker in the s-s-same household!" Azella exclaimed. "How fortunate!"

"Did you not know?" Ashterith inquired, somewhat snidely.

"No . . . I . . . have never spoken to one of your kind before," Nesmay admitted, listening in astonishment to the odd hissing language that emerged from her mouth.

"Pity." Ashterith hissed.

"Listen closely. We wis-sh to s-s-share some great news. Our eggs have hatched at last and we have two brand new hatchlings." Azella declared proudly. "Tell Harry he may s-s-see them anytime he wishes . . . and so may you, and your blond kin als-so."

"Thank you for telling me," replied Nesmay. "Congratulations on your hatchlings."

"We are the first runespoor in five hundred years to have two hatchlings born at the s-s-same time." Ashterith said proudly.

"I shall be sure to let Harry and Draco know. But they have been sick, so it may be some time before they can come out to see them."

"Is all well now?" asked Azeal, concern in his tone.

"Yes, it seems to be. I cannot wait to see them," Nesmay said excitedly. She loved young animals of all kinds.

"Fare thee well for now, little S-Speaker," Ashterith hissed, then the runespoor slithered out of sight so quickly Nesmay only saw a flicker of scales before it had vanished into the grass.

She quickly finished the rest of the garden, hoping that the boys were awake so she could tell them of the runespoor's news and her unexpected new ability. She wondered where she could have gotten it, as none of the royal family had the Beast Tongue gift.

But it was two hours later when the rest of the household began to stir, and Nesmay was almost stir-crazy with impatience.

Finally Harry woke up, feeling weak and a little woozy. He got out of bed and went to use the bathroom. On his way back, he bumped into Nesmay, who had been waiting to see which of the family would wake up first. "Hey, Nesmay. What time is it?"

"Almost nine. Finally, someone else is awake. I mean, I know you were sick last night, but . . . wait'll you hear this. I was outside pulling some weeds in the herb garden and—"

"Harry, you're awake!" exclaimed Severus. He was leaning in the doorway of his bedroom, looking pale and wan, the Monitoring Charm had woken him. "How do you feel?"

Harry shrugged, never one to make a big deal over his health. "Like hell, Dad, but better than yesterday." He eyed his father up and down. "Dad, you look terrible. Guess you caught what Draco and I had."

"I did. Somehow we all contracted the golden plague." Severus told him.

"Huh? Is that like a wizard disease?" Harry asked.

"Yes, one of the worst scourges ever to stalk us. At its height, centuries ago, it took one in every five wizards. But eventually they managed to find a cure for it and it was wiped out. Or so I thought. Until we all caught it. Luckily, with the help of Sev Prince, Healer Auriane, and Sarai, we all survived. But it was a near thing. Draco almost . . . he almost didn't make it."

Both Harry and Nesmay looked horrified.

"Draco . . . he almost _died_?" Harry whispered.

"When was this?" Nesmay cried, her amber eyes shimmering with tears.

"While you were both sleeping. It happened so quickly . . . I had been asleep as well, but my medallion woke me. I knew Draco needed me, so I came down the hall and into his room . . . I almost wasn't in time . . ." There was a haunted look in the Potion Master's eyes.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Nesmay cried angrily. "So I could say goodbye? If he had . . . gone, I would have never gotten to say goodbye!"

"Nesmay, there wasn't time, he succumbed so quickly—" Severus began.

The girl stared at him accusingly. "You or Sarai should have woken me."

"Child, what good would that have done?"

"So I could bid him farewell, or don't you think that it's important? You don't, do you? Because I'm not really your daughter. I'm just the fosterling you chose to live with you out of pity, right?"

"Nesmayallindra, you know that's not true—"

"It is so! You would have shared his last moments, but not me, because you thought it wouldn't matter." Nesmay shouted, tears now trickling down her cheeks.

"Nesmayallindra, do not raise your voice to me-"

Nesmay ignored him, her temper in full flood. "You don't care! At all. You would have let me sleep while he was dying and then say poor Nesmay, your brother died and we didn't want to disturb you! How bloody considerate of you!"

Severus' eyes flashed. "Enough, young lady. You stop shouting at me this instant—"

"Fine!" Nesmay snapped, then she whirled about and charged back into her room, slamming the door hard.

"What in seven hells is going on out here?" Sarai demanded crossly, coming to stand beside her husband. "Can't I get some sleep around here after playing nursemaid for the entire night, blast it?"

Severus turned to her. "I apologize, I didn't mean to wake you, but Nesmayallindra had issues with the fact we didn't wake her up last night so she could tell Draco goodbye if he happened to die."

"Oh. Was that why she was yelling that you didn't care?"

"Yes. The foolish child makes me want to shake her, the way she was acting! I've got a good mind to go in there and—"

"Severus, no," interrupted his wife, putting a restraining hand on his arm. "Confronting her when you're both still angry will solve nothing. Let her cool down."

Severus glared at the warrior, "I won't be treated with such disrespect, Sarai. I might not be her biological father, but she's not going to backtalk me that way and storm off in a snit and think I'll let it be—"

"Severus! Will you stop running at the mouth and listen to me? I never said you ought to let her speak to you that way, just wait until you've calmed down before confronting her. When you're angry you say things you don't mean, things that hurt the most. You use your tongue like a weapon, and it cuts deeper than you realize."

Severus opened his mouth to refute her words, then slowly closed it. Because, much as he wished to deny it, Sarai was right. For too long he had relied on his tongue as his only weapon, his only defense against people like his father and the Marauders. But Nesmay was not his enemy, merely a little girl with a smart mouth. "You know me too well," he admitted reluctantly.

Sarai shook her head. "You may not be blood, but you and Nesmay have the same flashfire temper, and quick tongue. She is more your daughter than she knows."

"Humph! Perhaps, but _I _never would have answered my father back like that. Not to his face and hope to be able to still walk the next day."

"She needs to apologize for her rudeness, but Sev, try and understand her point of view. She's very insecure and she came close to losing her brother last night and that really scared her. She overreacted, but remember, she's just a girl, and not one who has ever had a normal family. Surely you remember what that's like?"

"All too well." He sighed. "I . . . think I need to lie down."

Sarai nodded as he retreated back into the bedroom. Then she turned and said to Harry, "Go back to bed, son. You still need to rest. I'll come by in a bit with some potions Healer Auriane left for you to take."

Harry nodded and went back to sit on his bed. He felt achy and stiff, but not enough to go to sleep. He could understand why Nesmay felt left out and upset, for he felt a bit like that himself, but he also understood why Severus hadn't woken him up. Severus had been trying to protect them. He didn't want them to have to witness Draco's death, he knew how much it hurt to watch and be helpless when another slipped away down the gray road. He had watched too many die that way. Harry knew as well, having watched Lily die in front of him. Nesmay wouldn't know how that felt, she had never seen anyone die, at least Harry didn't think she had. Severus had been trying to spare her, not trying to ignore her.

He looked up as Sarai entered, carrying a tray with two potions on it and a glass of merlinna juice. He made a face at the potions, but took them without a fuss, then drank the juice. "Is Dad all right? And Draco?"

"Yes, thank heaven. They shall recover with plenty of rest and potions, just like you." She sat down on the edge of the bed and gave him a hug. "You gave me quite a scare, Harry. I'm not . . . used to dealing with illness like that. Thank Merlin I had Sev Prince and Auriane there to help me. Creatures of the dark and Unseelie I can deal with, but the golden plague . . . that scared me witless. I never want to go through that again."

"Me either," Harry admitted.

She drew Harry's medallion out of her pocket and handed it to him. "Here. Your father took this last night when his medallion warned him of Draco's peril."

Harry took it and slipped it over his head. "He didn't want me to see it, right?"

"Yes." Sarai stroked his hair. "Your father loves you very much and he tries very hard to protect you from the uglier side of life. He knows you've all seen too much of it, more than any child your age should and well, it's instinct to protect your children."

"I know. Maybe I could talk to Nesmay. She might listen to me better."

"I think that's a good idea, Harry. But you also should rest, you need to get your strength back." Sarai reminded him.

"Is that what you told Dad?" he asked with an impish grin.

"Yes. Whether or not he listens to me is another story."

"He can be a stubborn git. Don't tell him I said that, okay?"

"I won't. But it is the truth." Sarai smirked, her green eyes dancing. "Then again, if he wasn't so stubborn he might not have survived all these years. So I can't complain too much. If you love someone, you learn to take the good with the bad."

"I'll remember that next time Katie starts complaining about how stubborn I am. At least I come by it honestly."

"You do, Harry. And since I have more than my share of stubborn, I can't really complain either."

Harry was quiet for a moment, then he said sincerely, "Sarai . . . I'm very glad my dad married you. Anybody else would have run screaming from the manor by now with all the things we've said and done, either that or had us sent off to an institution."

"Ah, Harry!" the warrior started to laugh quietly. "When I married Sev, I knew it was a package deal, and there was no having one without the other, for Sev his family came first. And it was for that I loved him best of all, especially because I knew what sort of background he came from, and what it cost for him to love so deeply. Your dad is the bravest man I ever knew." She kissed him gently on the forehead. "Now, I have to go and check on Draco, and then I am going to sleep, today is going to be a very lazy day."

Harry yawned. "I'm going to go back to sleep too. As soon as I talk to Nesmay."

He rose and headed to the girl's room as Sarai entered Draco's. He could tell Draco was still asleep from the faint snoring coming from his brother's room. He had never been so grateful to hear that sound. He tapped upon Nesmay's door.

By that time, Nesmay's temper had died down and now she was feeling guilty and ashamed of her outburst. Severus had been deathly ill and she hadn't even asked how he was feeling, she had allowed her temper to run away with her, and this was not how she had wanted to start the day off. Tears prickled her eyes and she wished she knew of a spell to hex her tongue still. She hadn't meant to hurt Severus, hadn't meant to pick a fight with him, but the mere thought of losing any member of the family had scared her witless, and knowing that she had come so close to doing so and had not even been aware of it petrified her._ Even so, that is no excuse for being rude to your guardian,_ her conscience reprimanded. She fully expected him to come knocking at the door and tell her she was grounded for another week or turn her over his knee or something.

The tapping on her door made her wince, but then she made herself sit up and call, "Come in."

She nearly fell over when she saw Harry in the doorway. "Oh! I thought you were . . ."

"Dad? He's asleep, Sarai convinced him to let his temper cool off before talking to you. Mind if I come in?"

She waved him to a seat on her desk chair.

He carefully shut the door behind him and shuffled over. "Sorry, I'm still a little groggy."

"I didn't mean to start a quarrel this morning," his sister said regretfully. "But when I heard about Draco, that he could have died and I wouldn't ever have known until it was too late, I just . . . lost it."

"I know. I've done that, believe me. To my friends and to Dad too, back before I knew he really was my dad. I've inherited his temper. But I'm lucky he controls his, else I'd be black and blue all over." He gave her a crooked grin.

She looked down at her hands. "I know. He's loads better than my old tutor, Ironhand, and still I . . . snap at him. I'm such a screw-up!"

"Hey, join the club. Nobody's perfect. You still mad at him for not waking you up when Draco almost . . .?"

"Kind of."

"Look, I can understand why you'd be annoyed, since he didn't wake me up either, but look at it this way. At least your last memory of Draco would have been a happy one, and not . . . not seeing him all pale and lifeless. Dad would never want you to see that, he knows what a terrible thing it is to see someone die in front of you, how much it hurts and how you never forget it. I was only a baby when my mum died, she was killed right in front of me and I . . . I still dream about it sometimes . . ." His green eyes were far away, clouded with an old pain.

"Harry?" She touched his hand.

He shivered and came back to himself. "See? It's been almost fourteen years since then and I still remember. That's why he didn't wake us up, Nesmay. Not 'cause he didn't care to let you say goodbye, but 'cause he was trying to protect you, to spare you pain. You've never seen anybody die before, have you?"

"No. Not like that."

"You don't ever want to, believe me."

Nesmay groaned. Now she felt even more guilty and angry at herself. "I'm so stupid, sometimes I just want to hex myself. When am I going to stop being like that?"

Harry chuckled. "I don't know. I'm still not over being stupid yet, and I'm almost fifteen."

"Great! I was all excited to tell you about the runespoor and now I've gone and ruined—"

"The runespoor? What about it?"

"I was out weeding the garden and it came up to me and asked where you were. I . . . could understand it and I told it you were sick and it told me to tell you its eggs had hatched and would you like to come see them?"

Harry's jaw dropped. "You mean . . . you're a Parselmouth too?"

"What's a Parselmouth?"

"It's a wizard or witch who can speak to snakes in their own language. I can do it, but the ability's really rare. Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth and some of his descendants inherited that gift. Like . . ."

"Like who? Are you his descendant?"

"No. But Tom Riddle was. And he was a Parselmouth. Dad thinks of my fae ancestors gave me the ability, since it's passed down through bloodlines. Do the Highstars have that ability?"

"Not that I know of. But . . . my sire had it?"

"Yes."

Her lip curled in disgust. "Then I wish I didn't!" she declared fiercely. "I don't want anything from him!" She was so agitated that several small items on her dresser began to tremble and topple over.

"Hey, Nesmay, calm down," Harry ordered firmly.

She flushed and drew in a deep breath, breathing in and out slowly ten times until she had regained control. "Sorry, it's just . . . I wish sometimes that I was anyone else's daughter but his."

"It's hard, coming from somebody who was so rotten. Draco would understand more about that than me. You know his parents were Death Eaters. And you know who else would understand? Dad."

"He would? Why?"

Harry shifted upon the chair, then said, very softly, "I don't know if I should tell you this . . . I probably shouldn't, it's really Dad's place, but . . .I don't think he'll ever think to mention it. Promise you'll never tell anyone."

"I promise on my honor and my House." Nesmay swore solemnly.

"All right . . . Dad would understand too because his father, Tobias Snape, was a drunken deadbeat who liked to beat the crap out of him when he was a kid. He hated Dad because Dad wasn't a "normal" kid, he had magic, and Tobias thought he was a freak. Kind of like my aunt and uncle did me. Dad told me once that he used to hate going home from school, because his dad was always looking for an excuse to hurt him. He said he used to wish his dad would be proud of him and love him, but it never happened, and he was ashamed and hated Tobias for most of his life. It was only after Tobias died that he finally managed to forgive him for what he did. And then he swore never to be like him. It's why he doesn't drink, and why he hardly ever raises a hand to any of us."

Nesmay was stricken. "Oh, Harry! I never . . . I always thought he grew up here and that he was loved."

"He was. By his mum Eileen, but she died when he was a teenager, and my mum Lily loved him too. But he was abused, just like all of us. And he grew up dirt poor, because his dad lost his job and drank away what little his mum managed to save. But Nesmay, he didn't let that stop him. He grew up and he made his life worth living. And now look at him. He's Lord Snape, the Heir to Prince Manor, and he has a wonderful wife and three awesome kids and another two on the way. He's a brilliant potion maker and a hero. That's what I plan to do . . . and so does Draco. It's like Dad always says—you don't have to follow in the footsteps of your father, you're your own person, and can make your own decisions."

"Evil is a choice."

"Right. But so is being miserable because you're Voldy's daughter. You might have his blood and some of his magic, but you're _not_ him. You don't have to make the wrong choices he made. You can make the right ones, and become a good witch, in spite of what he was. Because you're also Aislinn's daughter, and Severus Snape's. Magic's not about good or evil—magic just _is_. It's how you use it that makes the difference. And I don't see you hexing old ladies or boiling babies at the dark of the moon, or sacrificing baby animals."

"Gross! That's just disgusting!"

"See? You have nothing to worry about, Nesmay. You're not going to become Old Tom, because you have a good heart and you chose Light over Dark. You also have something Tom never did. A family who loves you. We'll never let you go dark."

"Thanks, Harry," she sniffled.

"C'mere, hedgehog," he murmured, then he hugged her, letting her cry on his shoulder for a few minutes. "Feel better now that you've soaked me?" he teased.

"Uh huh. You're a good big brother, Harry."

"I try. I love you, Ness." He ruffled her spiked purple hair.

"Love you too."

"Now quit feeling sorry for yourself, _Pricklehead_, and go apologize to Dad." He mock-growled.

"_Pricklehead?_ **Pricklehead? **What kind of a name is that, Harry Snape?"

He smirked. "Ask Draco, he invented it. I just was the first one to call you it."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Just you wait, Harry. I'm going to give you the most awful nickname ever invented. And then I'm going to call you it when Katie's over."

"You do and I'll make you eat soap!"

She burst out laughing. "Not unless you can catch me!" Then she darted out of the room.

"Brat!" he growled, then went after her, but he was too weak to chase her.

They passed Draco's room, and happened to glance inside. Nesmay skidded to a halt when she saw that her brother was actually awake. "Draco!" she squealed. "Help, Harry's after me!"

She raced into the room, climbed onto the bed, and threw her arms about him. "Draco, you're better!"

"Uh . . . yeah, I was . . . till you decided to strangle me," the blond wizard grunted. He gently loosened the girl's hold about his neck.

Harry came into the room, panting and pretending to look angry.

"What's she done to get you mad, Phoenix?" he drawled lazily. "Do I need to beat her for you?"

"Draco!" Nesmay cried.

He smirked evilly. "Only kidding, Nessie. That's Dad's line. But I can tickle you to death." He jabbed his fingers into her ribs until she giggled.

A minute later she was clinging to him and weeping. "Draco, I'm so glad you're alive! You almost died!"

"I what?" he sat up, patting Nesmay on the back. "I almost _died_? I didn't think a bout of wizard's flu was that dangerous."

"We didn't have the flu, Dragon," Harry said, taking a seat on the other end of the bed, by Draco's feet. "We had the golden plague."

"The plague!" exclaimed the other, paling. "But that was supposed to have been eradicated! Nobody's had a case of that in over a hundred years!"

"Don't look at me. That's what Healer Auriane said. And she ought to know. You, me, and Dad all contracted it—"

"—and you almost _died_!" Nesmay added, sniffling.

"Yeah, I got it the first time. Now quit sniveling all over my pajamas, it's gross." Draco scolded, grabbing a soft cloth from the nightstand and handing it to her. "How's Dad?"

"He's getting better. He's sleeping otherwise I'm sure he'd be in here along with Sarai," Harry predicted. He bent to scratch Cafall's silky ears, the misthound was lying next to the bed. "He was really sick, and so was I, according to Sarai, but you were the only one who—"

"—almost died!" Nesmay finished, blowing her nose into the cloth.

"All right already! People almost die everyday," Draco groaned. "Harry's almost died a few times, for Merlin's sake! Now shut up about it, can't you?"

Nesmay abruptly went from weeping to wrathful, her amber eyes flashing. "Why are you being such a snot? Don't you care that you nearly died?" She made as if to scramble off the bed.

Draco caught her arm. "Just a minute. I do care, and I'm really happy I'm not six feet under now, but you don't need to pound it into my head every ten seconds, okay?" He sat up. "How long have I been in bed? A day? A week?"

"Last night and this morning." Harry said. "I guess the plague works damn fast. You look like I feel."

Draco scowled. "I feel like mouse turds, weaker than a baby. And something tells me that I'm not going to be allowed out of bed at all today."

"Why should that bother you?" Harry inquired saucily. "You're the King of Sleepyheads."

"Normally it wouldn't, but I wanted to fly today. Have you heard anything from the runespoor, Harry? I wonder if the eggs hatched."

"Ask Nesmay, she knows."

Draco stared at his sister. "You do?"

Nesmay nodded. "I do. But I'll only tell if you ask me nicely. . . and share your stash of chocolate frogs with me."

"How did you find out about those?"

She smirked irritatingly. "I have my ways."

"Little sneak! Fine. Please tell me about the runespoor, Nesmay. And I'll give you two chocolate frogs."

"Three."

"Don't push it, brat. Okay, talk."

Nesmay told him about the runespoor and its hatchlings.

"Wicked! I can't wait to see them." Then he sighed. "I hate being sick. Where's Dad with his potions?"

Harry gaped at him. "You _want_ to take potions?"

"Hell, no. But I want to see the runespoor's hatchlings. Taking potions is the only way I'll get better, so . . . I'll have to take my medicine like a man. Unlike _some_ people." He gave Harry a pointed glance.

"I take my potions!" his brother objected.

"But you whine like a girl."

"I do not!"

"Do so."

"Well, if they're arguing, I would assume they're feeling better," drawled a familiar voice.

All three children looked up to see Severus in the doorway.

"Hi, Dad!" said Draco and Harry.

"Hello, Severus," Nesmay said, somewhat cautiously.

"I would have to agree with that," Sarai appeared a moment later, carrying a small tray with a few potion vials upon it and a glass of water. "Draco, these are yours."

"I figured that," her oldest son sighed. "Thanks, Mum." He took the first one and gulped it down.

Then he noticed that everyone was staring at him. "What? Haven't you ever seen a guy take a potion before?"

"It's not that . . . you called Sarai mum," Harry explained.

"I know. I don't remember a lot about last night . . . but one thing I _do_ remember is that Sarai was there while I was sick as a dog . . . she took care of me . . . and that's not something Narcissa ever really did. When I was little and came down with something, she would send Dobby to me, she didn't like getting too near sick people. Sick people were dirty and germy and Narcissa wouldn't want to contaminate herself." Draco said with a sneer. "But Sarai was right next to me, even at the worst . . . and that's what a real mum does. Narcissa gave birth to me, but Sarai saved me, and that makes her worthy of calling her Mum."

"Thank you, Draco," Sarai said, tears standing in her eyes.

Harry coughed, then said, "Maybe I should . . ."

"When you're ready, Harry," Sarai murmured. "And you too, Nesmay. There's no rush, and I won't be insulted if you choose not to. Your mothers were wonderful people and I'm not trying to take their place."

"But you're here and they aren't," Nesmay said, coming over to hug her. "I don't remember her or my father, not that I _want_ to remember him, but . . ." Then she released the warrior and went over to hug Severus also. "I'm sorry I acted like a brat, I didn't mean to quarrel with you, but I was just scared. . . I'm glad you're not sick anymore . . ."

"I forgive you, child. Next time think before you speak. I, too, am grateful that we all survived it. Especially you, Draco. You—"

"—don't say it. I almost died," his son interrupted. "I _know_."

They all smiled at Draco's indignation, grateful he was still there to fuss and complain about something.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

After Draco had taken all his potions, Sarai decided to make a late breakfast of scrambled eggs, bits of ham, and onions, along with toast with butter and honey, coffee and hot cocoa. Since Draco didn't feel up to getting out of bed, they all decided to eat breakfast in his room.

Harry and Severus Summoned floating trays and chairs, while Nesmay helped Sarai carry in the plates and place them on the trays, which were floating in a semi-circle beside Draco's bed. In the middle hovered a large tray with the food and drinks, it rotated about so everyone could take whatever he or she liked.

As they ate, Harry said, "I have an announcement to make. Azeal, Ashterith, and Azella's hatchlings have been born. So now we have three runespoors on the estate. Azeal has invited us to come and see the hatchlings when we're able."

"That's a great honor, Harry. I think only a handful of wizards have ever been granted the right to see a runespoor's hatchling, much less two. You ought to be proud." Severus praised.

"Well, I sort of did save one egg from Dudley." Harry said. He wondered how his cousin and Petunia and Sirius were doing. He would have to write them and find out.

"And I'm a Parselmouth," Nesmay announced.

Both adults looked startled.

"That's a worthy gift to have," Severus said. "Snakes have always been good sources of information and wisdom. See that you use it wisely."

"I will, Severus. I'm not like my father."

"Very true. You are your own person, and a credit to both your mother's House and mine."

Nesmay beamed. That was the highest praise Severus could have given her.

Draco pushed his plate away. He had eaten small portions of toast and the egg casserole and was slowly drinking a cup of cocoa. He had been mulling over something while the others discussed the runerspoor and now he said, "I've been trying to figure out how we could all have caught this plague and why Sarai and Nesmay didn't."

"I can answer the second question," Sarai told him. "Since Nesmay and I are half-fae, the fae blood grants us immunity to many diseases you mortals fall prey to, including the golden plague."

"Oh. That makes sense." Draco agreed. "But here's what I figured out about why Harry, Dad, and I caught it. I came down with it first, and had the worst symptoms. At first I thought we could have gotten it at Diagon Alley, when Nesmay and I went shopping with Dad. But the more I thought about it, the more I figured that couldn't have been. I learned about the plague before I went to Hogwarts, my tutor taught me about it, and he said the plague could only be passed through touching an infected person."

"So why couldn't you have caught it in Diagon Alley?" asked Harry.

"Because the only people I touched were Nesmay and Dad. I didn't shake hands or touch anybody else. And since I came down with it first and had the worst case, it means I was exposed to the infection more than anyone else. I think it came from something here in the manor."

"Here in the manor? How do you figure that? I'm sure that my grandparents didn't allow anyone to enter their home bearing diseases. My grandmother Prince was a cleaning fanatic." Severus frowned. "The only places she never took a mop or broom to were my grandfather's secret rooms where he kept powerful and dangerous magical objects, his study, and that room you and Harry cleared out, that was a "junk room" where my grandfather and several other ancestors tossed malfunctioning magical apparatus or things they didn't want but couldn't bear to throw away or magical experiments that failed."

"Can the plague be transmitted by an object, like if an infected person touched something?" asked Draco.

"No. Research indicates the virus can live for a short time upon human tissues, but dies otherwise. If it could live on objects, everyone would be infected." Severus answered.

"How about inside something?" Draco probed.

"You mean, like inside a test tube or a container?"

"Yes. When I was cleaning the room, while Harry was resting his sore behind, I found a small chest that was locked. I probably shouldn't have unlocked it, but I did. Inside was a small globe, sort of like a Seer's globe. There was nothing else inside the chest, not a scroll of instructions or a warning, nothing. I took the globe out and it . . . crumbled to dust in my hands. Then the particles vanished, except for the ones on my hands. I might have gotten some on my face too. Could the disease have been inside the globe all those centuries, and when I touched it, triggered some kind of spell that caused the globe to crumble and release the disease?"

Severus and Sarai pondered Draco's words for a long time.

At last, Sarai said, "That is possible. Maeve of the Unseelie was famous for creating what she called "Sick Packages", they were small packages, usually decorated richly with jewels and other attractive valuables, and sending them to her enemies among mortals, or those mortals who had angered her in some fashion. Inside were various illnesses, contained in a magical bubble until the package was opened and then the bubbles popped and released the disease on to whoever opened the package."

"That's awful!" Harry said. "Did only the person who opened the package get sick?"

"Not if the disease was contagious. Then whoever else was nearby was infected too. Maeve didn't care, after all, what was one mortal more or less?"

"Could that globe have been one of those packages?" Draco surmised.

"Hmm. Possibly, or perhaps an ancestor was trying to make one to send to an enemy?"

"And they thought it failed so they tossed it into the junk room?" Harry guessed.

"Or maybe your grandfather was trying to kill my father, Severus, but then he thought Voldemort died, and so he figured the globe was useless and put it in there?" Nesmay guessed.

"That is also possible, though it would be quite unlike Micah to not put some kind of warning label on the box itself, he normally was not careless with Dark Magic objects."

"Well, however it got there, that's what I touched." Draco said. "And then I touched Dad and Dad touched you, Harry. That's how I think we all got the Golden Doom, as the old timers called it."

Slowly, Sarai nodded. "Yes, that's an excellent deduction, Draco. Since the plague was eradicated, it wouldn't follow that you picked it up at Diagon Alley. Therefore, your theory is the most likely one. I could see either an ancestor trying to copy what Maeve did, since the Prince line had always been devotees of fae magic, or as Nesmay said, perhaps Micah Prince wanted to get rid of Voldemort once and for all, but when Voldemort was killed the first time by his own hand and Lily's spell, he figured the attempt was useless and tossed the chest into the junk pile and forgot about it. He probably figured no one would find it in that mess."

"When I am feeling up to it, sometime this week I shall go and remove all of the junk inside that room, and scour it thoroughly. We can use it as a nursery or a storage room once it's been disinfected," Severus declared.

"Sev, maybe I should do that," Sarai interjected. "Just in case there are more dust particles lingering."

"No need to worry, beloved. Once you've had the plague and survived, you're immune." Severus reassured her.

"Even so, you might want to conserve your magic, I can dispose of everything myself, using a spell called Disintegrate."

"Cool! Can we watch?" asked Harry.

"You may, if you promise you will stay within the spell circle I will inscribe on the floor." Sarai said.

"When can we go and see the runespoor's hatchlings, Sarai?" asked Nesmay.

"When Harry and Draco are fully recovered," she replied firmly.

"When's that going to be, Mum?" Draco sighed.

"I don't know, but Auriane will come and check on you in a few days. Based upon what she says, I will determine when you are well enough to go traipsing through the woods." She eyed her husband, who was smirking. "And that goes for you too, my lord Snape."

"Ah, Sarai, I can determine for myself if I am well enough to resume my normal activities," he began.

"Severus, dear," she purred warningly. "You were stricken with a deadly disease. That means you need to follow your caregiver's orders and stay in bed until I am certain you are well."

"Now, Sarai . . ."

"Now, Sarai what? Now, Sarai, I am going to act like a sensible adult and stay in bed where I belong? Or now, Sarai, I'm going to behave like a foolish sixteen-year-old and sneak out of bed while your back is turned and make you Stick me to the bed?" she returned tartly.

"You . . . you wouldn't dare!" Severus sputtered.

"Wouldn't I? Severus, there is nothing I love more in this world than you, and if you think you're going to risk your health on my watch, think again!"

He glared at her. "You are utterly impossible, Captain!"

"Says the cauldron to the kettle."

"Don't you trust me to know my own limitations?"

"No. I trust you to take care of our children and myself, but you know as well as I that you would run yourself into the ground if you thought it necessary, Severus Snape. I've seen you do it before, when you were Dumbledore's spy."

"That was different." He grumbled, crossing his arms.

"No, love, that was you undervaluing yourself. When I married you, I took a vow to love and protect you . . . even from yourself. Now, will you please do as I ask?"

Severus remained stubbornly silent for several minutes, his clever brain trying to figure a way out of her ultimatum. But he found he was growing weary again, and his too-clever wife had him over a barrel, and he really didn't want to quarrel over something like this, especially in front of the children, who were smirking.

"Very well. But only because you asked me nicely."

Sarai chuckled. "Now that is why I married you, Severus. Because you are that rarest of creatures—a man who listens to his wife." Then she kissed him.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

Smidgen and Sev Prince appeared to each of the convalescents and told them how relieved they were to see them beginning to get well again, and helped to lessen their confinement by telling them amusing stories and anecdotes. Auriane returned and checked upon them, saying they were improving rapidly and should be able to return to their normal activities by the end of the week. She also advised Sarai to take some special Nutrient Potions suitable for pregnant women and get plenty of fresh air, exercise, and rest.

Sarai promised to follow her directives, and Nesmay helped her do chores about the manor and accompanied her on long walks about the grounds. The girl was itching to go and see the runespoor, but didn't want to try and find the lair herself and risk getting lost. So she tried to be patient, and practiced some elementary spells using Draco's copy of _The Standard Book of Spells Level 2_, and her meditation. She visited her brothers and Severus daily, playing board games with them and inventing riddles for them to solve.

Finally the weekend arrived, and with it Harry's birthday. Sarai had released all three wizards from their bed rest as of that morning, praising them for being exemplary patients. Because it was Harry's birthday, he was allowed to choose the menu for the day.

He chose cinnamon waffles, bacon, scrambled eggs with chives, and toast with honey-butter, plus merlinna juice and coffee. Everything was delicious, and Harry thanked Severus and Sarai for making his favorite breakfast. Once they were finished with breakfast, and Draco and Nesmay had washed up the dishes, Harry was exempt from chores on his birthday, the three were out the door like lightning.

Harry led the way into the forest, his feet sure upon the path, even though it had been a long time since he had traveled to the runespoor's lair, his earth bond told him exactly where to go.

Soon they were standing before the cave the runespoor had chosen, and Harry called in Parseltongue, "Azeal, Azella, Ashterith, come out please! It's me, Harry Snape, and my siblings."

Soon they heard a soft hiss and then the mature runespoor slithered out, its brightly colored orange skin banded with black stripes glittering in the morning sun. The snake was about 7 to 8 feet long, and unlike many of its kind, had managed to retain all three heads into adulthood, most runespoors attacked each other and ended up with only two heads or killed themselves, unable to learn how to compromise.

The runespoor greeted all of them politely, or at least two heads did, Ashterith, the critic, merely grunted. Then Azella turned and hissed a long crooning phrase. "Come, my sweet hatchlings, come and meet our human friends. Come out, don't be afraid!"

"I'm not afraid, Mummy!"

"Are too!"

"Am not! I can bite any old two-legs!"

"Papa says we're not s'posed to bite anyone!"

"If someone stepped on me, I'd bite 'em, all right!"

"But then they'd die!"

"Who cares?"

Six different voices mingles with each other as the two hatchlings made their way out of the dark den and into the sunlight.

They were about half-an-arm length long and had the same orange and black coloring as their parents. They also bore three heads, all of which seemed intent upon quarreling with one another.

Azella sighed. "Children! Enough! Now greet our guests politely."

"Yes, Mummy!" all six heads cried. One hatchling had two male and one female head, like its parent. The other had the opposite, two females heads and one male.

Harry knelt and said in Parseltongue, "I'm pleased to meet you. My name is Harry Snape, and these are my siblings. Draco, my older brother, and Nesmay, my little sister."

The little runespoors lisped their names and wished each of them good morning.

"Oh, they're adorable!" Nesmay said in Parseltongue. "What are their names?"

"We haven't named them yet. S-s-some runes-s-spoors prefer to name themselves, as we did. Others prefer to have names chosen for them. Becaus-se we owe you a great debt, Harry S-Snape, we as-sk that you and your siblings-s-s choose names for our hatchlings." Azeal told him.

"It would be a great honor," added Ashterith, somewhat grudgingly.

Harry was flabbergasted. He had never expected anything like this. "You want _me_ to name your hatchlings? I . . . I don't know what to say."

"S-s-say yesss!" hissed Azella.

"S-s-say yesss! S-s-say yesss!" echoed the little runespoors, giggling and hissing.

Harry couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm. "All right, I will. Uh . . . how long do I have to come up with names?"

"No hurry, little S-S-Speaker." Azeal said. "Take your time, a name is very important. S-Say perhaps, two weeks?"

"That sounds fair. Uh . . . should they all start with the same letters?"

"Usually, that is how it's done." Ashterith told him.

Harry nodded, then stood. "You have a wonderful family. Thanks for letting me meet them."

Nesmay also thanked them and Draco also.

"Now, we must hunt," Azella said, then the adult runespoor chivvied their offspring back into the cave, after first letting the hatchlings bid their new friends farewell.

"Wow, I can't believe they want us to name the hatchlings!" Nesmay said excitedly.

"Me neither!" Harry said.

They raced back to the manor and got some quills, ink, and parchment. They then spent the rest of the morning writing down possible names using nearly every letter of the alphabet. But they came up with nothing definite, and after a few hours Draco said he wanted to go flying, and Harry agreed.

Draco flew his Serpentstrike 2002 and gave Nesmay his old Nimbus 2001. Harry flew his Firebolt, and all three of them had a wonderful afternoon flying all over the grounds, and Harry showed Nesmay his special moves as Seeker, and Draco taught her how to dodge and weave among the trees.

The two boys found their sister a quick study and soon she was flying almost as well as they were, and Draco thanked Merlin Nesmay was not on a Quidditch team.

When they grew tired of flying, they played with Cafall, and Nesmay taught the young hound and her brothers some of the hand signals the Queen's Huntsmen used to train the misthounds.

They played until the young hound was tired and so were they. All of them agreed it was time to take a nap, and fell asleep beneath the willow tree near the pond. They slept until dusk, and Smidgen found them and summoned them inside for supper, cake, and presents.

_:Happy birthday, Harry! And many more!:_ she purred into his ear. _:Wake up, sleepyhead! You don't want to miss your cake and presents.:_

Harry stretched, yawned, then sprang up and raced Draco and Nesmay to the manor.

**A/N: Thanks to all my readers and reviewers for your support and encouragement. It keeps me writing! How did you like what went on here?**

**I do have two favors to ask, however.**

**The first one is an opinion-should Harry begin to call Sarai "Mum" or "Mother" soon? And should Nesmay begin to call Sev "Dad" and Sarai "Mum"? Or shoudl things stay as they are?**

**The second is a request-help me name the runespoor hatchlings. I have decided to use names that begin with an "R" or "S", those being the most common letters in Parseltongue. The hatchlings between them have three boys and three girls, I need your help in choosing their names. Please pick either an S or R and come up with a few names I can use, they should all start with the same letter-ex. Ruth, Robin, Robert. You can put your choices in your review or PM me with them. Depending on how many names I have, I will put them in a hat and draw three R's and three S's at random, one for the boys and one for the girls. You can make up names, they don't have to be real ones, since these are magical snakes. Thank you!**


	69. Family Time

**69**

**Family Time**

Harry carefully cut the first slice of his triple chocolate birthday cake, then served it to Sarai. "Ladies first," he smirked at her and placed a fork on the plate.

"Thank you, Harry. I really shouldn't eat this . . . not with the way I'm gaining weight lately, but . . . it's your birthday and I do love chocolate . . ."

Severus eyed his wife, who was barely showing, and said, "You're worried about gaining weight? You'll burn off half those calories during your practice workouts, pregnant or not, with your metabolism." He accepted a piece of cake from his son. "I'm the one who shouldn't be eating this." He glanced around the table at his family. "Actually, none of us should, considering how hyper sugar makes all of you, and this cake is filled with it."

"You made it, Dad," Draco pointed out, before eating his piece.

"We're not little kids anymore, Dad," Harry said. Then he looked at Nesmay. "Well, some of us aren't."

"Hey!" Nesmay said indignantly.

"Just saying," Harry added, giving the girl a smile.

"True. You aren't," Severus agreed, clapping his now fifteen-year-old son on the back. "However, that doesn't mean I stop worrying about your eating habits, Harry Albus Snape. But since it's a special occasion, you may have your cake and eat it too."

Harry chuckled. "Good one, Dad." Then he served himself a piece.

Even Smidgen had a tiny piece with a dab of frosting on it. Once they had all eaten the rich cake, which Harry claimed was the best one he'd ever had, it was time for presents. Harry couldn't recall a better birthday than this one, at home with his real family, who celebrated his birth instead of wishing it had never occurred, like the Dursleys had.

He eagerly opened his presents. Besides ones from Ron and Hermione, who had gotten him the usual sweets, a handmade sweater with a phoenix from Molly, and a book about Josef Wronski, there were also presents from Sirius and Petunia, as well as Severus and Sarai and Draco and Nesmay.

From Sirius came a crate of Zonko's products, new ones that hadn't even hit the store yet, as well as a soft black jacket lined with goose down (that had been Petunia's contribution). Draco had gotten him a fine leather wand holster, with the Prince crest stamped in gold upon it. Nesmay had given him ring, a large gold and onyx one with a phoenix surrounded by five stars on it.

"It's a seal ring," she explained to Harry. "To seal your letters with. All the fae nobles have at least one. One with their House emblem and the other for private correspondence. I thought the phoenix suited you, given your nickname."

"It's awesome, Nesmay. Thanks." He slid the ring on his finger. It fit perfectly. He looked over at Severus. "Do you have a personal seal, Dad?"

"I do. It is a serpent emerging from a cauldron."

"Neat." Then he opened his last gift, which was from his father and stepmother. It was wrapped heavily in sturdy brown paper. The paper fell away to reveal a black sheath containing a sword. Harry's eyes almost bugged out as he drew the blade. It was a slender rapier forged of silveron, with green leather wrapped about the hilt for a sure grip. Harry knew a bit about swords, thanks to Phil's tutelage, and he could tell this was crafted by a master fae swordsmith. It was a blade fit for royalty. Or the Heir Apparent of Prince Manor. "I . . . this is just . . . I don't know what to say . . . except thank you . . ."

"I was going to wait until you were sixteen, but Sarai told me you were mature enough to handle a real sword. So there you are. Happy birthday, son." Severus said simply, his eyes glinting proudly.

"Wow! It's awesome!" Harry said, examining the shining blade proudly. He knew that among the fae, the giving of a real sword marked a rite of passage from childhood to adulthood, signifying he was old enough to be responsible for his own safety and his family's. "Does this mean I get to practice with it?"

"Only against a practice dummy," Sarai clarified. "You're not up to using it against a live opponent just yet."

"Right. I wouldn't want to hurt you." Harry agreed.

"Or cut your toe off," Draco teased. He had received a sword also on his birthday, but had not had a chance to practice with it yet.

"Hey, I'm not that bad."

"May I see it?" Draco asked.

Harry offered him the hilt.

Draco took it and struck an _en guarde_ position. He carefully thrust the sword through the air, admiring the balance and lightness of the blade. "You'll be able to give Uncle Phil a real fight with this once you learn how to use it well."

He handed the sword back to his brother, who sheathed it, and looked at Sarai. "Can I go practice with it now?"

Sarai smiled at his enthusiasm. "Wait a bit and let yourself digest that cake, Harry. Working out on a full stomach might cause you to throw up."

Harry agreed, and gently set the sword down beside his chair. He trusted Sarai to know what was best, and he felt that he was finally growing up at last. But not grown up enough to forgo a second slice of cake, he thought, taking another piece.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

After his lesson with Sarai, which mostly focused on him holding the sword correctly and practicing stances with it, Harry found Draco and Nesmay in the drawing room, scribbling different names for the runespoor hatchlings upon scraps of parchment. He sat down next to Draco at the table and asked casually, "How are you doing so far, Dragon?"

Draco looked up, his normally tidy hair falling in disarray across his forehead. "Not bad, but . . . it's hard, picking names for a snake. Care to help, O Heir Apparent, or are you just going to sit there looking smug?"

Harry laughed. "All right, since you asked me so nicely . . ." He pulled over an extra quill and some parchment and began to write, nibbling upon his quill every so often.

"Harry, that's gross!" Nesmay scolded when she caught sight of where the quill end was.

"Huh?" He looked up, puzzled.

"You don't know where that quill's been," she scolded.

He pulled the quill out of his mouth sheepishly. "Bad habit." Then he returned to writing.

An hour passed before Harry set down his quill and said, "Well, I'm fresh out of ideas now. Here's what I have so far." He began to read out his names. "Reigna, Sorcha, Sebastian, Risa, Reiko, Summer, Rowan, Riko, Saban, Sileny, Suvan, Ruth, Razor, Ruby, Rathnait, Sakura, Radella, Raimi, Rhea, and Raasana."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Here's mine. For the boys I have these: Shea, Sinclar, Raijin, Severn, Sandstone, Sage, Ruthvan, Roland, Raziel, Safiru, and Rithshar. Girls—those were easier for me, don't ask me why." He cleared his throat. "Silk, Sakumi, Sonora, Rosemary, Ricardia, Rydelle, Safira, Sybil, Suriyama, Solaria, Rajkumari, Sabina, Sunbeam, Rastar, Ramona, Skylar, and Rilyan."

"Those all sound good to me," Nesmay said. "Here are mine. Some of them are fae names. Ristar—that means iron in my language. And these are girl names—Saritha-golden heart, Seraana—that means water-over-rocks, and Sirristhys—the moon's secret. Sami—highly treasured. Sabriyya—patient, Sana—lily, Sonali—golden. Sebille—who was a Queen of the Seelie, Rainy, Sophrosyne. For boys I have Sesha—a famous king of the naga in Hindu mythology,Rigul,Rintoor, and Rilon. Rivalen—who was the father of Tristan Randall, Shane, Shinomori, Sai, Shirou, Sanpei, Sandayu, Santoshi, Saravel, Singalan, Ranar, Rith, Relaneskar, and Roku."

Harry's eyebrows went up. "Well, we have plenty to choose from." He set his quill down. "I say we think on it and then come back to it tomorrow. We still have a week or so."

"Right. And I'm tired," Draco yawned.

They went and bid their parents goodnight before turning in. Harry read a bit from one of his new books before falling asleep.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

That next week was spent traveling back and forth to the Faerie Realm in the afternoons for the children to soak in the healing springs beneath the palace, and Sarai accompanied them a few times so Healer Auriane could monitor her and reassure her and Severus, who was quite anxious, that all was well with mother and children.

The mornings, Severus had arranged for Nesmay and Draco to go to Ollivander's and help finish up work in his shop. The Potions Master had explained what had happened to the children, and Ollivander was horrified and said he was grateful that they hadn't come to permanent harm from their kidnapper and were now home, safe and sound. He also was quite happy to have such dedicated workers to help him reorganize his inventory and carve some new wands.

Harry would have liked to go also, but Severus told him he needed Harry at home, to teach him more about the manor and the grounds. So, while Nesmay and Draco learned more about the making of wands, Severus showed Harry another special ability of the heirs of Prince Manor.

He led Harry out beyond the pond, to the large grassy sweep of land just before the forest, and said, "Before you were kidnapped by Jarillion, I taught you about the earth bond, where you can feel all living things that dwell upon the land, and also those who are related to you in the event they are in mortal danger."

"I remember that," Harry said, caressing his medallion.

"There is another ability we possess, and that is to summon any creature who dwells upon the land. Bird or beast, magical or ordinary, all shall come when the heir calls. Most times an heir would never summon a creature unless he is fighting for his life. Especially the dangerous ones, like the wyvern. However, I wish you to call one to you now, so that you may see what it feels like."

"I can call anything?"

"Yes. Feel it through the earth bond and then summon it." Severus said.

Harry concentrated, feeling all of the animal presences through the bond. He gently touched the runespoor's aura, and then called it from its lair.

_S-Speaker, we come!_

The runespoor soon arrived, coiling up and then peering at Harry with a curious expression. "Have you called us to tell us about the names you have chosen for our hatchlings?" Azeal purred.

Harry blushed. "Umm . . . no, we're not yet decided on the names. Sorry, I just was practicing calling a magical creature to me."

"Ahh. I s-s-see. You are the Heir to the Manor and may call upon all who live on it to aid you or speak with you if there is need." Ashterith said.

"How did you know that?" Harry gasped.

The runespoor hissed in amusement. "Others told us, and it is standard for such havens. No protection without a price, youngling."

"Oh. Well, thanks for coming."

"It was our pleasure, but now we must depart. Our hatchlings are sstarving."

In the blink of an eye, the runespoor had shot back into the forest.

Severus reached out and patted Harry on the shoulder. "Good job, son. Remember how you can call upon the creatures for aid, if by some very faint chance, some evil happens to cross over. That has never happened since the manor was built, but still, forewarned is forearmed. Any questions?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, wondering if the question that had popped into his head right then was stupid. He decided to ask it anyway. "Dad, it's not about the summoning but . . . what happens when the babies are born? Could the manor . . . could it choose one of them to be the Heir?"

Severus was startled. "Why would you ask that, Harry?"

The boy shrugged uncomfortably. "It's just . . . well, with the twins being born, the manor would have more of the Prince bloodline to pick from, so . . . it might decide one of them was more worthy."

"No, Harry. The manor has made its choice and you are the Heir Apparent. This may sound strange, but the manor is very powerful, and it would have looked into all the possible candidates, even those who were yet unborn, and then it chose you."

"You mean . . . it knew you were going to have twins?"

"In a manner of speaking. From what Sev Prince has told me, the manor's magic will allow it to examine even possible futures before it makes its decision regarding a new heir. It did so when it chose me and again when it chose you. Unless you turn to dark magic, you will inherit the manor and all the responsibilities that go with it, Harry. You needn't worry about suddenly being disinherited."

"Oh. Guess I was worried for nothing," Harry said, ruefully.

"It's a normal reaction," Severus said, putting an arm about his son. "And just in case you were concerned, my having children with Sarai does not mean that I will love you any less."

"I know. I'm not five, Dad. I won't be jealous of the babies."

Severus chuckled at his indignant expression. "After what you and Draco put me through last year, I just figured I'd mention it."

"But that was different," Harry argued. "Draco was . . . well, you know . . . It's not the same with the babies. I'll be their big brother and they'll look up to me. And I'll teach them all I know."

"Except how to get in trouble," Severus remonstrated.

"Uh . . ."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, Dad." Harry said quickly. He flashed his father his best innocent look.

"Harry Albus Snape, if I catch you teaching your siblings ways to break rules . . ." Severus growled.

"Dad, calm down. They're not even born yet, and for all you know, they could be like Hermione, never even thinking about breaking rules."

Severus snorted. "That would be a miracle." He sighed. "Still, one can hope."

"Have you picked out names yet?"

"Not yet. But we will."

"Dad, would you mind if I wrote to Aunt Petunia and Sirius? And Uncle Phil and Aunt Julie? To tell them about the babies?"

"No. I should have done it long ago, but it slipped my mind. If you would like to tell them, Harry, go ahead. I suppose I may as well write my colleagues, let them know also."

"Sounds like we'd better get started then," his son declared.

"It won't take as long as you're thinking," his father replied. "Not with a Copying Charm."

"What's that? I never learned that one." Harry said.

"Come inside, and I'll show you." Severus beckoned his son, and together they walked inside.

Harry watched Severus as he wrote his signature upon a piece of parchment and then used the Copying Charm—_Scribere reproducto—_to copy the signature upon a second piece of parchment. "Wow! That's so easy."

"Yes, but you are never to use this to copy another's homework, am I understood? I catch you doing that and you'll be off the Quidditch team quicker than you can say Snitch. Clear?"

"Yes, sir. But I'd never do that!"

"I am happy to hear it, but I thought I would warn you anyway, just in case you were tempted. This spell is to be used only for reproducing copies of correspondence, such as invitations to a party. Go on then, write your letters. I'll see you at supper."

Harry made his way up to his room, where he began to write his first letter to Petunia and Sirius. He wondered how they would take the news. And Dudley as well. He already knew that Phil and Julie would be thrilled, more nieces or nephews for them to spoil.

He quickly finished one letter, then used the Copy Charm to reproduce the body of the letter and his signature on a second piece of parchment. The only thing different was the greeting. He sealed the letters and wrote their addresses on the outside, then called Hedwig to deliver them.

The snowy owl seemed happy to fly off on a mission, and Harry felt slightly guilty at not having given her more letters to deliver. Then again, at least this summer she was with him, and not trapped in a cage or given to Ron to watch over the way she had been before Snape had come and taken him away from Privet Drive.

That night at dinner, Draco told the family that he was seriously considering becoming a wandmaker when he finished school.

"Ollivander says I have a real talent for selecting the right wood and pairing it with the right core. He thinks I'll make a good apprentice, unlike his nephew Abelard."

"Yeah, Abelard's a lazy slob," Nesmay put in. "Ollivander said he only took Abelard as an apprentice as a favor to his sister. But Draco's the one he really wants."

"That's wonderful, Draco," Sarai said, passing the mashed potatoes over to Harry.

"If you do decide that's what you wish to do, I shall speak with Ollivander in your seventh year and draw up an apprentice contract," Severus said, giving his blond son a smile. "To be a wandmaker is no small thing, Draco."

"I know. And to study with Ollivander is a real honor."

"Yes. I am sure you'll be a credit to him," Severus said approvingly. Draco looked as though he had won the TriWizard Tournament. Severus looked at Nesmay. "And how did you do today, Nesmay? Any accidents?"

"No, sir. I didn't even lose my temper when Abelard called me a silly stupid wench."

Severus' eyes narrowed. "That young man needs a lesson in manners."

"Oh, he got one, Severus. Ollivander heard and made him scrub the entire back room by hand and carve two dozen beech practice wands. And he made him apologize too," said Nesmay.

"Good. I'm glad to see you're learning to ignore idiots like him, whose tongues run ahead of their brains." Severus said, then took another helping of honey-glazed pork loin. It seemed that all of his children were growing up.

"That's the best thing to do with a fool who can't control his tongue." Sarai added. "If he sees he isn't getting a reaction, he'll get bored and go away."

"And if he doesn't, your big brothers will chase him off," Draco said.

Nesmay giggled. "Thanks, but I can handle Abelard."

Once the supper dishes were washed and put away, that night it was Draco and Nesmay's turn, the three siblings retired to the drawing room again to discuss names for the hatchlings.

After fifteen minutes of a rather heated debate, Nesmay threw up her hands and cried, "This is hopeless! We're never going to agree."

Harry thought for a moment, then said, "All right, then we'll do it the democratic way. We'll put all the R boy names in a hat and pick two of them, and then do the same for the S boy names. Then we'll pick one S girl name, and one R girl name. That way it's fair and we all have an equal chance to get one name of our choice."

Draco frowned. "All right. That's fair."

"Who gets to pick first?" asked Nesmay.

"Me, since it was my idea." Harry insisted. "Draco can pick the S boy name and one S girl name, Nesmay, you get the rest of the girl names."

They quickly cut up the pieces of parchment and separated all the names, putting them in one of Harry's school hats. Harry stirred the paper bits with his wand. Then he put his wand down and drew forth the first scrap of paper with a flourish. "And the first name for baby boy number one is . . . Raziel!"

Draco smirked. "Keep going, Phoenix."

Harry stirred the names again, like an ancient Celtic prophet stirring rune tiles. Then he reached in again and pulled out another name. "The name for the second hatchling is . . . Raimi!" Harry grinned. "That's one of mine. So that takes care of runespoor hatchling R, at least for the boy names."

He removed the R names and then dumped in the S boy names. "Here you go, Draco."

Draco copied Harry's method, only using his own wand. "And baby boy S is . . ." he reached in and withdrew a parchment piece. " . . . Sesha!"

Nesmay squealed and jumped up and down. "Yes! I picked that one!"

Draco banished the rest of the S male names and then filled the hat with S girl names. "And now, for the second girl baby . . . Fortuna, don't fail me now . . ." He reached in and withdrew another paper. " . . . Sybil!" he whooped. "Lady, I worship you!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Dragon, don't get all full of yourself."

Draco just laughed. "Here, Nessie. Pick out another brilliant S name."

Nesmay reached into the hat and drew out a name. "And the last S name is . . . Sirristhys!" She shot Draco a smug grin. "Ha! Now we're even."

"You know, boys and girls, this isn't a contest on who gets the most names," Harry pretended to scold them.

"Shut up, Harry!" the two chorused.

Harry flashed them a trademark Snape glare, then picked up a quill and wrote down the finished S runespoor names. Sesha, Sybil, Sirristhys. "Come on, Nesmay. Let's finish it up."

Nesmay placed all the girl R names into the hat. "And the last girl name is . . . Raasana!"

"Good job, Nesmay! Now we're all even," Harry said. He then wrote down the completed set of R names. Raasana, Raimi, and Raziel. "Tomorrow we'll go and find the runespoor and tell him the good news."

"Hooray!" Nesmay clapped, then she threw all the rest of the parchment papers up in the air, making it rain confetti.

Draco scowled at her. "What did you do that for, you silly twit?"

"Because I felt like celebrating."

"You're cleaning up this mess, you know," her elder brother said sternly.

"Did I say I wouldn't?" his sister demanded. "Really, Draco. Quit being such a stiff." Then she waved her wand and spoke a Neaten Up Charm.

"Well, now that we've helped the runespoor with names, maybe we could help Mum and Dad with baby names," Draco said.

"I guess, but let's wait and see what they decide first," Harry said diplomatically. "I mean they have what, four months till the twins are born?"

"Around that, I think," Nesmay nodded. Then she asked brightly, "Who wants popcorn?"

"Only if you're not making it," Harry teased, for last time Nesmay had burnt the kernels to a black crisp.

"It wasn't my fault. _You_ told me to leave the popper on the fire and finish my meditation." Nesmay defended.

"Well, I figured you'd listen to the sound of it popping," Harry protested.

"Merlin's sake, by the time you two finish arguing over whose fault it was, we could be eating some," said Draco exasperatedly. "Where's the corn popper and the popcorn, salt, and butter?"

Both younger siblings just stared at him. "You mean . . . _you're_ going to make the popcorn this time?" Harry sputtered.

"Yes. I can't be any worse than Nesmay," Draco retorted, Summoning what he needed.

"I have _got_ to see this," Harry sniggered, then he and Nesmay watched as Draco measured out the corn for the iron and mesh corn popper, closed it, and stuck it over the fire in the fireplace.

The corn popper was a rectangular basket made from iron, with mesh sides and bottom and a hook to hold the top closed. It had a long handle and a special heat-resistant rubber grip so Draco could hold it without getting burned. The Slytherin knelt on the hearth, occasionally shaking the popper to distribute the contents. After about five or ten minutes the corn began to pop.

Soon the corn was popping at a furious rate and fluffy white kernels filled the basket. Draco shook the basket rapidly and more corn popped. Finally he took the basket off the fire, for almost all the corn was popped. He had a large blue ceramic bowl on the table, after removing the lid from the popper, he poured all the popcorn in, sprinkled salt on it, drizzled butter over it, and mixed it.

Then he stood back, licking butter and salt off his fingers, and said, "Now _that's_ how you make popcorn. Any questions?"

Harry and Nesmay didn't bother to say anything, they just dug into the bowl and started eating.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The next morning, all three siblings were awake very early, in a tearing hurry to find the runespoor and tell the snake the names for their hatchlings. Harry led them carefully into the small forest, and used the earth bond to locate the runespoor lair. He then called out in Parseltongue to the snake.

"Azella, Azeal, Ashterith, it's me, Harry Snape, the Speaker. I've returned with my siblings to name your hatchlings."

"We come, S-Speaker!" came a loud hiss from inside the cave, then the adult runespoor appeared, followed by the two small hatchlings.

The runespoor family halted a few feet in front of Harry's trainers, coiling and looking up at the boy expectantly.

"What's my name? What's my name?" the hatchlings asked, bobbing up and down. "Tell us! Tell us!"

Their parents shot them a reproving look. "Be ssstill, young ones!"

The hatchlings stopped bobbing.

Harry cleared his throat. "Will the hatchling with two females and one male come forward?"

One of the orange and black snakelings slithered up.

Harry pointed to the middle head, the dreamer, and said, "I name you Sybil, for the prophetess of ancient Rome. Dream well."

Then Nesmay stepped forward and pointed at the right head, the critic. "I name you Sirristhys, for an ancient Queen of the fae, debate well."

Draco came forward and pointed at the left head, the lone male, the planner. "I name you Sesha, for the ancient Hindi king of the naga. Lead well."

"Sssirissthyss, Sessha, Sssybil!" hissed the hatchling's three heads. Then all three heads bowed low. "We thank you for the gift of names, S-Speaker S-Snape, Draco, and Nesmay."

Harry bowed back, as did his siblings. "You are most welcome," he replied. Then he beckoned the other hatchling forward. "Now for you." This time he pointed at the left head. "I name you Raasana, which means decisive, for a leader needs to be able to make choices. Lead well."

Draco took the middle head. "I name you Raimi, which means compassionate, for most dreamers are gentle. Imagine well."

Nesmay took the right head. "I name you Raziel, which means "the Lord is my secret" for often a snake is the keeper of secrets. Argue well."

One by one, the hatchlings hissed their new names to their parents, then they thanked the Snape children.

"All honor and wisdom to you, children!" the elder runespoor called. "Come, hatchlings! Now is the time to learn to hunt."

Then all three slithered off into the brush, the small runespoors quarreling a bit among themselves before a sudden "Ceasse this bickering!" came from Ashterith, and no more sound was heard from any of them.

Harry grinned, then said he was hungry for breakfast, and they all headed back to the manor.

Over their breakfast of eggs, toast, bacon, and waffles, Severus announced that he would be turning the manor clock back for three months, which would give them time to have a vacation for the summer and also allow Sarai to spend most of her pregnancy with Severus.

"I didn't want you to spend half of it alone here while I was teaching, so this seemed like the best solution," Severus told her. "When we return to our time, you'll have about a month left and so can deliver, hopefully, during the last days of August, before the boys and I have to return to school."

"That's thoughtful of you, Sev." Sarai said. "But let's speak with Healer Auriane before we do so."

"Yes, that would be wise. The children have their last session in the healing pool today. We can inquire about it then."

While the three children were having their final soak in the Pool of Restoration, Sarai and Severus discussed their decision to travel back in time at the manor with Healer Auriane. The fae Healer did not think it too dangerous to attempt, since Sarai was young (for a fae), in perfect health, and the embryos were also healthy.

"Let me show you a few standard obstetric charms, my lord. Nothing fancy, but basic monitoring charms for mother and baby, since I won't be able to interact with you while you are in the past. If Lady Sarai continues her exercise regimen and drinks her potions, she should be fine. However, if anything should happen, please don't hesitate to contact me immediately."

"I will. If . . . if she starts having contractions or something, I'll bring us back as soon as possible," Severus promised.

Sarai frowned at them. "Would you kindly stop discussing me as though I'm not here?"

"Sorry, my lady," apologized the Healer. "Look, Lord Snape. This a charm to monitor the babies' heartbeats . . ." She demonstrated the incantation, using gestures to complete it.

Severus watched closely, as did Sarai. The warrior was not as skilled in magic as her husband, but she could cast some spells.

Once Auriane was satisfied that Severus was able to cast the charms, she gave them a full stock of potions for Sarai, they were mainly Nutrient Drafts and a Headache Remedy made especially for pregnant witches and some Soothing Muscle Salve. "There! That should keep you until your return," she declared happily, shutting her satchel. "I shall see you soon. Take care!"

The expectant parents waited until the children were finished with their session and had spoken with Healer Kellin, who asked if they had had any recent nightmares or periods of depression. All three told him no, and after running a short diagnostic over them, pronounced them cured of the dark taint and able to go home.

"Perhaps I shall see you at the next revel?" he inquired politely, bowing.

"Maybe you will," Nesmay said, then bid him farewell.

As they were about to depart, a shimmerling came and delivered an early christening gift to the Heir and Lady of Prince Manor. It was from Titania, and the box contained lovely christening gowns of spidersilk encrusted with pearls and diamonds, a royal gift.

Severus' eyes almost fell from his head.

"These children will be spoiled beyond belief!" Sarai chuckled when she saw what her cousin had sent. "Titania never could resist a baby."

"Does she expect us to name her as godmother?" asked Severus, a little uneasily. "Is this a hint?"

Sarai shook her head. "Oh, no. Titania has many godchildren, and while I'm sure she wouldn't mind, she would never demand that position. Who did you have in mind, Sev?"

"I was thinking maybe Philip and Julie."

"Sounds fine to me. You can't go wrong with two Born vampires for godparents."

"You're sure the queen won't be insulted?"

"Titania isn't petty that way, Severus. She won't mind, so long as she's allowed to hold the babies after the ceremony," Sarai reassured him. Then she kissed him lightly. "Quit worrying, Snape, you'll make your hair gray."

After a light lunch with Titania and Morgana, the Snapes left the palace and traveled through the Gate back to the manor, where Severus turned back the clock all the way to the beginning of June, showing Harry exactly how it was done.

Harry watched closely, knowing someday he would be doing this alone, without Severus' guidance. Once it was finished, Harry asked why he didn't feel any different. "I mean, when Hermione and I used the Time Turner back in third year, it made us feel really dizzy and strange for the first ten minutes."

"The clock is a fae magic, and they have been tampering with the time stream for millennia. They know how to do so without making themselves ill or disorientated. Now remember, you can leave the manor for brief periods, since you can't encounter your other selves, as they are at Hogwarts, but you also cannot interfere with people in a significant way. You may, for instance, shop at a store for something, like ice cream, but the person you interacted with won't remember you after a day or two. It's part of the magic surrounding you. You can observe the past, but not change it deliberately."

"I understand, sir." Harry said. The fae did not believe in altering past events, lest you compromise the future. Then he eyed his father thoughtfully and asked, "Dad, how about a game of Quaffle Keep Away? You _do_ remember how to fly, don't you?"

"Of course I do, Mr. Impudence!" Severus mock-growled, cuffing Harry playfully on the shoulder. "Just because I'm not obsessed with Quidditch doesn't mean I can't fly well."

Harry smirked. "Just wondering, Dad. Would Sarai want to play too?"

"No, thank you, Harry," Sarai said from behind them. "I'd prefer to keep my feet on the ground for now. But have fun with your father, Harry."

Harry turned and gave the warrior a smile. "I will. Now let me tell Draco and Nesmay. They can play opposite." He rushed off.

His stepmother chuckled. "He's full of energy today. The pool looks like it reinvigorated him. And it'll do you some good to get outside, Sev. You're starting to look like a ghost."

"You're pale as snow, my lady," he countered. "Maybe you should join us?"

"Yes, I will take a walk through the orchard while you play with your sons and daughter. Before I am so huge I can't walk anywhere without waddling."

While Severus and Harry played with Nesmay and Draco, Sarai wandered leisurely through the orchard, occasionally tossing a blue rubber ball for Cafall to fetch. The misthound was growing rapidly, and yet he still was a puppy, loving to romp and play with his family. He trotted happily beside the former Blade Captain, his ears alert and tail waving.

Up above, Harry snatched the Quaffle from Draco and tossed it to Severus, who neatly avoided Nesmay's attempt to intercept him, and caught the ball neatly. He then flew towards the goal with the Quaffle under his arm.

Draco pursued, but to his shock, Severus was wickedly fast, and maneuvered better than Draco expected. Before the blond could catch him, Severus scored, making his team ahead by one.

Harry yelled, "Nice one, Dad! That's teaching him a lesson!"

Severus smirked, then threw the Quaffle back into play.

Draco was startled. "Hey, where's you learn to fly, Dad?"

"School," the elder wizard replied with a wry smile. He snatched the ball from Nesmay with a feint, and then tossed it behind him. "Harry, catch!"

Harry was ready, and caught the Quaffle instantly, then raced for the goal, Draco hot on his heels.

They played till the afternoon sun was low in the sky, and then went inside for a shower. Harry and Severus' team had won—20 to 17.

It was Sarai's turn to cook dinner that night, and she used a recipe learned from Molly—chicken and dumplings with a side of egg noodles and apple crumble with treacle sauce for a sweet.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

As the month of June progressed, the little family used the extra time allotted to relax. They had family picnics upon the lawn, with everyone making whatever they liked, sandwiches or salads, and different biscuits. They swam in the pond on hot days, or drowsed upon the porch beneath the columns. Sarai challenged the whole family to a riddle contest, and everyone had to come up with a different riddle every day, no repeats. Draco and Severus had an ongoing game of Wizard Chess. Harry, who was pants at chess, opted to go with Sarai and Nesmay, hunting with Cafall.

Harry found it was pleasant, slipping through the trees, following the eager young dog. But he neglected to release his earth bond, and when Cafall caught and killed a rabbit, he ended up sick all over.

"Harry, are you all right?' Nesmay asked, concerned. "Maybe it was something you ate? Or the heat?"

Harry just groaned and told her to leave him be.

Nesmay looked hurt, until Sarai drew her away and whispered to her that Harry was embarrassed at getting sick in front of two females.

"What's that matter?" the girl asked.

"To men, it matters. They think they look weak. Male pride is touchy," explained the warrior.

When Harry caught up with them, he almost threw up again, since Sarai was expertly dressing the rabbit, tossing the inedible bits to Cafall. "Ugh! I think I'm going to be sick again," he gasped.

"Take two deep breaths and avert your eyes if it bothers you," Sarai told him, continuing her task.

Harry glanced at Nesmay. "How come it doesn't bother _you_?" he demanded, ashamed at his weak stomach.

The girl shrugged. "We all have to eat. And rabbits are good eating. But I don't like killing a deer. Even though roast venison is very good, and one of the queen's favorite dishes."

"I don't know if I can eat that, especially not after I felt . . ."

"Felt what?" Sarai asked gently, cleaning off her knife and wrapping the rabbit meat up and storing it in her hunting pouch.

"I . . . think I felt it die . . . when Cafall . . . when he bit it . . ." Harry said hoarsely.

"The earth link," Sarai murmured, her eyes suddenly filled with compassion. "No wonder you lost your lunch, child. Harry, didn't your father teach you how to block the link when you have to?"

"Uh . . . yeah, but . . . I forgot."

Sari stood, and patted her foster son on the shoulder. "Why don't you do it now? You'll feel much better. And we won't mention this to anyone, will we, Nesmay?"

"No. Draco would tease you forever if he knew."

"Thanks." Harry said gratefully, and did as Sarai suggested. He was glad to find out that he wasn't some kind of sissy.

Sarai waved Cafall onward, and the hound found another rabbit and some quail, which Sarai shot with a handheld crossbow. This time Harry didn't get sick, but he didn't watch while Sarai dressed them either.

The rabbit stew and stuffed quail they ate that night was delicious, but Harry was glad that most of their food came from a store. Cafall got an extra large meaty bone, for doing a good job catching supper that night.

As June turned into July, Sarai began to develop some odd cravings, which totally baffled Severus and the boys. One afternoon, Harry opened the magical icebox in the kitchen to find a whole shelf of pickles.

"Draco, what's with all the pickles in here? It's like the supermarket. There are dill pickles, bread and butter pickles, half-sours, and zesty garlic. Who's going to eat all these? I don't even like pickles!"

"Well, Mum does. She made Dad go out today and buy them. Said she all of a sudden wants to eat something sour."

"Huh?"

Draco shrugged. "Don't look at me. Dad says the Healer told him that pregnant women get weird cravings when they're expecting."

"Why?"

"How should I know? Do I look like a girl?" Draco demanded irritably.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Sarai soon discovered that she got the cravings at the worst possible times, such as late at night. At first she tried to ignore them, but they plagued her so much that she couldn't sleep, and ended up tossing and turning.

That in turn woke up Severus, who was a light sleeper, and he looked at his wife grumpily and asked softly, "What's wrong now? Are you sick? Are you having contractions?"

"No. I'm just . . . hungry," she admitted, chagrined.

"Again? Merlin's wand, woman!"

"I'll just go back to sleep." Sarai said apologetically, though she doubted if that were possible. Her stomach was grumbling louder than her husband.

Severus propped himself up on an elbow, recalling Auriane telling him this was something that often happened to pregnant women and he had to be patient. "No. How can you sleep if you're hungry? What are you hungry for? Eggs? Bacon? Fried pickles? Strawberries?"

"Umm . . . not really."

"Then what?"

"I feel like having . . . a grilled peanut butter and banana sandwich."

"A grilled peanut butter and banana sandwich? But that's what . . . Elvis used to eat!" Severus sputtered, flabbergasted. "How did you learn about that?"

She slanted him a wry look. "Sev, you forget, I _was_ around when he was alive. And Harry reminded me of it one day. He was telling me about how Dudley used to hog the TV set and he watched all the old Elvis movies and made Petunia make him the sandwich and banana pudding and brownies for two months straight one summer. And Petunia got Dudley guitar lessons, only they only lasted a week because Dudley broke his guitar in a temper tantrum when he couldn't get the notes right."

"Spoiled brat," muttered her husband. He slid out of bed. "All right. Let me just go down to the village to the Ready-Mart, they're open almost all night. What time is it anyway? Midnight?" He yawned then Transfigured his sleepwear into a hoodie, jeans, and black loafers. "I'm sure they have peanut butter and a loaf of sliced bread. The bananas I can get off of the tree in the orchard . . ."

"Sev, you don't have to . . ." she protested faintly, feeling guilty.

"Yes, I do. This way you can't accuse me of ignoring you or whatever you pregnant women say about your husbands' behind their backs," he groused.

"Severus!"

He turned around, his hair tousled from sleep. He made her want to drag him back in bed, he looked so adorably disheveled. "What now?"

"I love you."

"Humph! You damn well should." Then he Apparated down to the convenience store, only to come straight back because he'd forgotten his wallet with his Muggle money on the nightstand.

Twenty minutes later he was in the kitchen, grilling up peanut butter and banana sandwiches. And here he had thought to have a relaxing vacation! Lately he barely got any sleep, because if Sarai didn't wake him up starving for some crazy dish like strawberry ice cream topped with raisins and dates, or chicken a la king, or salt and vinegar crisps and chocolate bars, he was awakened by her tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. _By the time these children are born, I should have earned the Husband of the Year Award._

Little did he know, this was only the beginning.

**A/N: Thanks for everyone who gave me names for the hatchlings. I had over 100 names by the time this was written and I had to choose them the old-fashioned way, out of a hat. Hope you all liked the family time in this one. In two more chapters, the newest Snapes shall arrive!**


	70. Of Patience and Compromise

**70**

**Of Patience and Compromise**

****It was brought to my attention that the alerts were not working last chapter, so PLEASE read it if you haven't already and let me know how you liked it. Thanks!****

Around about the second month of the Snapes' second summer holiday, Sarai bloomed like a desert flower, developing a very noticeable bulge and resorting to dressing in loose flowing outfits, because the heat was beginning to get to her, and she was too big to fit into her favorite tunic and leggings. By then she was around six months and the babies were beginning to move about and kick her all over. She also lost some of her even temper, and became suddenly snappy and irritable.

But before that, when she was not the size of a hippopotamus on steroids, she had started teaching Harry some standard sword techniques. Though he had learned some maneuvers with Philip while at school, Sarai said those had been emergency sessions, taught so he could defeat the lamia, and he needed to learn the proper way . . . from the beginning.

"While I know Philip's reputation as a swordsman is excellent, he did not have the time to teach you thoroughly, a few weeks of learning how to thrust and parry does not mean you are an expert, the art of the sword takes years to master, and there are no shortcuts if you seek true mastery, only hours of hours of practice and dedication." The warrior lectured the first time she had taken Harry into the salle for a session. "So then, we shall begin at the beginning, then I can assess your strengths and weaknesses, and see what needs improving."

Sarai was an exacting teacher, and though she did not hesitate to scold Harry when he made foolish mistakes, or on rare occasions, administer a swat to his backside with the flat of her practice blade if he had done something unbelievably stupid—like turning around in the middle of a match to tell Nesmay he'd be right up for lunch—she was always fair.

Her scathing lecture, however, left a more lasting impression on him than the smack. "And do you think, young Snape, that your opponent will gladly wait till you've eaten lunch before he continues to attack you? Or would he slip a sword between your ribs as soon as you glance away, leaving your lifeblood leaking onto the ground for your stupidity? When you are fighting, whether practice or for real, never _ever_ take your eyes, or your concentration, off your adversary! If you do, you're dead."

He had winced and stammered an apology.

She snorted and said, "No apology will fix a severed head. Now, let's do this again, and remember, focus and concentration are the keys to defeating a stronger opponent."

"Yes, _Amarsi_," Harry had said contritely, resolving to never make _that_ mistake again.

He also learned, not only how to wield a sword, but the ethics of the art of war. Sarai had taught him them first, before she would let him spar with his birthday gift against even a practice dummy. "This is the first thing I tell all of my students, and the most important thing a warrior needs to learn—when _not_ to fight. That may sound very odd, considering a warrior is trained for combat, but bear with me. The best fight you're ever in is one where you never have to raise a sword, the second best is the fight you can walk away from with a minimum amount of blood on the ground. An honorable warrior seeks a peaceful solution before war, and only when it becomes unavoidable, raises a blade. Then he or she fights as hard as necessary. An honorable warrior seeks to preserve life, the lives of his or her sworn comrades or family or monarch, and lastly their own. War is a necessity, not a celebration, and should be treated as a duty, not some kind of game. The taking of a life, even an enemy's, should be something done as a last resort, and not out of jealousy or petty revenge or uncontrolled rage. Those who look upon war otherwise will most likely not last long enough to discover the error of their ways."

Harry had listened carefully, and thought that Sarai's doctrine made more sense than any other warrior code he had ever read about. He resolved to follow it, especially since he didn't like taking lives and hoped he never would need to.

It was what made him so hesitant when Sarai declared it was time for him to spar with a living opponent instead of the dummy after two and a half weeks.

"Come at me," she had ordered one afternoon, standing calmly in front of him, sword in hand.

"But . . . I've a real sword now, not a practice blade!" he'd protested. "I could hurt you!"

Sarai had merely chuckled. "Ah, Harry! You and your father are more alike than you know. He too said much the same to me when we began using steel against each other. And I shall tell you the same thing I told him then: Don't worry about me, worry about yourself."

"But. . . Dad told me that even a beginner could get in a lucky blow on a master."

"True . . . _if_ his master grew arrogant and careless. I am neither of those things. I am alert and ready for you. Now, come at me, boy! Pretend I am Jarillion, and you want to teach me a lesson in manners. Don't hesitate. If I cannot dodge a swing by an apprentice I have no right to the title of swordmistress." She urged.

Harry managed a half-hearted swing at her, which she batted aside. "Again, and put some muscle in it! This is combat, not a mummer's play!"

He swung with more force, and his blade clashed with hers.

"Better! Again!"

Over and over he lunged, trying to catch her off-guard, but she anticipated all his moves and countered them, sometimes with her sword, but mostly by darting away, being too quick for him to land a blow. He was amazed that she was still so fast, clearly pregnancy hadn't slowed her down much. Or at all.

Then again, she wasn't showing all that much.

Occasionally, Severus and Draco would join them for their own session. Draco was slightly better than Harry when wielding a blade, since he had had more practice. Lucius had allowed Draco to study with a fencing master when at Malfoy Manor, because fencing was considered a "noble" sport and therefore suitable for his heir, like riding. But the blond boy couldn't match Severus, and often he, like Harry, ended up on the ground in front of Severus' boots.

Out of all three, it was Nesmay who was most skilled with the sword, the benefit of private arms tutors since she was around two. Nesmay could, sometimes, fence Severus to a draw, but only if he didn't catch her off-guard first. She was lithe and small and devastatingly quick. She used that to her advantage, but sometimes it wasn't quite enough, for Severus was just as quick and had a longer reach and more experience.

Sarai had told all three that if they kept up with their lessons over the summer, by summer's end they would be passable fencers. Or passable in her lexicon, which would have been incredibly good by an ordinary human's standards.

In addition to the sword lessons, the whole family practiced _kin-sa-dor_ every two days, in the evenings. Those lessons were preceded by meditation, allowing them to relax their minds and focus before they stepped on the mats with each other. Whether the boys sparred with each other, Severus, Sarai, Nesmay, or a practice dummy, they came away with a new skill learned each time.

The discipline learned by practicing martial arts also enabled the three children to learn control over their magic. Nesmay's outbursts of accidental magic grew fewer and fewer, as she wrestled control over her volatile temper and sought to master both sides of her magic, the fae and the mortal. She had sessions with Severus every day, learning basic Charms, potions, and Herbology.

Often Draco or Harry accompanied her, learning more advanced magic, or practicing spells they had difficulty mastering. It was an opportunity to learn that Severus was determined his children not waste. He also assigned them reading from the Prince library, so they could learn magical history without being bored to death. Harry also read the Prince heritage book, discovering much about his ancestors that was both interesting and surprising.

It was after one of those sessions that Nesmay sought out Sarai, finding the half-fae warrior relaxing down by the pond, dipping her somewhat swollen feet in the cool water. She was conversing with Smidgen, who brought her all the amusing gossip from the Seelie Court, and informed her on how her replacement was getting on with the family.

" . . . I am sure Lady Berengaria was quite dismayed to be scolded so publically by Princess Morgana," Sarai was saying, chuckling a little. "Then again, I've always said she needed taking down a notch or two."

_:I would certainly agree, Sarai. Princess Morgana does not suffer fools lightly, any more than does her mother.:_ Smidgen purred, she was stretched out upon a low lying branch, her iridescent wings twinkling in the noonday sun.

Nesmay slid to a stop just beside them and said, "Smidgen, who are you talking about? You've just come from court, haven't you?"

_:I have indeed, little hedgehog.:_

"Well? Who were you talking about?"

"Best tell her, Smidgen. She'll haunt you till you do."

The shimmerling licked her paw, then sent, _:As you will, Lady Snape. Listen, young one, and learn of the comeuppance of Lady Berengaria . . .:_

Smidgen told the tale of the arrogant fae lady's dressing down with wit and style, making Nesmay snicker.

"Oh, Smidgen! I wish I could have seen it. Berengaria was one of Uncle Oberon's set, and she was a spiteful harpy, always looking down her nose at me and making remarks about my gowns and my hair. I used to want to push her into the fountain sometimes, or turn her hair into a nest of shrieking bats. I'm glad Aunt Morgana put her in her place. It's about time." Nesmay said with a satisfied sniff.

Sarai looked at her young ward thoughtfully and said, "Do you miss being at court, Nesmay? Would you like to return for a visit after my children are born?"

"Umm . . . I don't know. I sort of do, I'd like to see Gran again, but . . . at the same time I don't really mind being here. At least here nobody sneers at me for being the royal half-blood bastard."

Sarai put her arm gently about the girl. "Ah, child. It's not been easy for you these past years. I'm glad you're enjoying your stay here. You know this is your home now, don't you? That you're our daughter as much as Draco and Harry are our sons?"

Nesmay nodded. "Yes. I love it here. Sarai, if my mother had lived, do you think she would have . . . married?"

"Aislinn might have, once she got over the shame and shock of being used and abandoned by your father. She was very sweet and most fae lords adored her. I think she might have done, if she found someone she loved."

"Then I might have had a brother or a sister."

"Yes. Would you have minded?"

"No . . . I think I would have liked it." Nesmay said sincerely. She eyed Sarai's steadily burgeoning middle, then looked down at her hands, which were twisting her green tunic into knots. "Sarai . . . does it hurt very much to have a baby? Are you scared?"

The warrior was quiet for several moments before she answered. "From what others have told me, yes, there is pain, but it's something that you soon forget once you hold your child in your arms. Your grandmother told me that there are spells to block the worst of it, and that the pain had a purpose, so it is easier to endure than you would think. Am I scared? A little, but not of that. I'm more concerned over the twins, and I fear for them more than myself. I pray to the Bright One every day that they grow strong and healthy and I have no difficulty with the delivery."

"Will you have them here, at the manor?"

"Severus suggested it, but I believe it will be better to have them at the palace, where the Healers have the springs to help with the delivery."

"Help how?"

"My babies, like the queen's, shall be born into water. When they are ready to be born, I shall go into one of the springs, not the Pool of Restoration, and deliver them. I have been told such is easier than having them out of the water. Titania has said the water helps, it cradles and lifts and is a natural thing, more so than having a child upon a bed. The fae have been birthing in that fashion for time out of mind."

"But won't the babies drown in the water?" Nesmay asked.

"No, child. For in the womb a baby is surrounded by water, and breathes it as easily as a fish. It is only when placed in air that they take their first breath. It is perfectly safe, Nesmay."

"Oh. Sarai, was I born like that?"

"Yes. All those born in the palace are delivered thus. You were no different."

"Were you there?"

"I was guarding the door while your grandmother was with her daughter. I did not see your actual birth, but I saw you soon after, in your mother's arms. I heard her bless you and acknowledge you as her own."

"Did she say she . . . wanted me? Even after . . ."

"Nesmay, she loved you. You were her daughter, and no matter who sired you, she loved you as her child. Never doubt that."

The girl's amber eyes met her green ones and she whispered, "I . . . believe you."

Sarai gently kissed her on the forehead. "I wish you could have known her," the warrior said quietly. "You remind me quite a bit of her. Aislinn was feisty, and full of life. She feared nothing and no one. She would have defended you to the death, against even her own blood. She would have slaughtered Oberon and Malchiar for what they did to you."

"Like Severus would have." Nesmay said, leaning her head against Sarai's shoulder.

"Yes. And me." Sarai murmured, stroking her short spiky hair. "We will never allow harm to come to you. Or your brothers. That I promise."

Nesmay sighed. "Someday, I hope I find someone the way you did Severus."

"You will, child. Of that, I have no doubt," laughed Sarai. "I just hope he's ready for you, little hedgehog princess."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"Hey, Draco. You missed your sword lesson," Harry called, tapping at his brother's door. "Are you sick?"

"No. Come in."

Harry entered his brother's room, leaning on the doorjamb. He saw Draco sitting at his desk, using a sharp flat knife to carve small shavings from a block of wood. "What are you doing?"

"Carving a practice wand out of oak," his brother replied. He had half the wand done, and was slowly beginning the next part. He set down the half finished wand and his carving knife. "I didn't realize I'd been carving for so long. I completely lost track of time. Is Dad mad at me?"

"No, not really. He just sent me to find you, make sure you weren't bleeding to death or something."

Draco grinned. "Tell him I'm fine. And I'll make it up tomorrow." He picked up the unfinished wand and began to carve again.

Harry watched him for a while, slightly envious. "You're really good at that, Dragon."

"That's because I practice a lot. And I like it."

"So you're really going to be a wandmaker when you finish school?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Nothing, just . . . I wish I knew what I wanted to do when I finish school."

"Then you've changed your mind about being an Auror?"

"Sort of. I used to think it was all glory and excitement, but now I know better."

"Don't worry so much, little brother. You've got time to figure out what you want to be. Besides the heir to Prince Manor, that is. How about becoming a professor, like Dad? Or a Healer or a researcher or something?"

Harry bit his lip. "I guess. I'll have to think about it."

"That's a good idea. When's supper?"

"In about an hour. Dad's cooking tonight."

"Good. Now hush, I'm trying to concentrate," ordered the young wandmaker, and returned to his carving.

Harry flopped down on his brother's bed and thought about careers, until Severus called them to dinner.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Severus and the children had grown so used to seeing Sarai with a medium-sized stomach, slightly rounded, that it shocked them when one morning at the beginning of July she seemed to grow two sizes overnight. Severus had been told that would happen, as fae women showed later in their pregnancy than human women, but it still surprised him to see his petite wife with an abdomen the size of a watermelon. A _large_ watermelon.

He made the mistake of commenting on it, and was told to get out of his bedroom if he didn't like it. He went, figuring she was touchy because she was losing her trim figure. He resolved to apologize after breakfast. Only his wife never came in for breakfast.

"Where's Mum?" asked Draco.

"She's getting dressed," answered his father. "Go ahead and eat."

When she still hadn't shown, Severus went back into the bedroom. "Sarai? Are you all right?" he called before entering.

He found her sitting on the bed, still in her nightie, struggling with her favorite pair of boots, which were now too small for her tender swollen feet. She was attempting to tug one on, and swearing a blue streak.

He raised an eyebrow at her colorful language, which was a mixture of English and fae. "Do you know what all those words mean?" he teased gently.

She jerked up, her green eyes blazing. "Of course I do. I _am_ a soldier, after all." She grimaced and yanked the offending boot off her foot and snarled, "Bloody blasted boot!"

The boot hit the wall with a thud.

Sarai glared at her puffy foot and muttered a few more words. Then she picked up the mate to the first boot and glared at Severus. "What are you looking at?"

Severus eyed the boot and wondered if he should duck. Then he crossed his arms and frowned. "My wife, who seems to have become a virago."

"How would you like it if you woke up one morning to find that nothing fit you, not even your favorite pair of boots?" she growled. The other boot struck the wall and landed next to its mate.

"Would you like some breakfast?"

"No."

"How about a massage? Do your feet hurt?"

"No. Leave me alone, Severus."

"I only want to help."

She gritted her teeth. "You can help by leaving right now."

He pulled out his wand. "First let me cast a diagnostic."

"No! Go away, dammit!" she snapped. "Just . . . go!"

"Fine. I'm going, if that's the way you want it," he shot back, not understanding what was wrong with her. He turned and stalked out of the bedroom.

She stared after him, feeling guilty, then she looked at her misshapen feet and curled up on the bed, her arms wrapped about her huge belly and wept. She felt like a two ton baby dragon, and even though she had been warned about it, the reality was worse than she had imagined. She felt clumsy and awkward and achy, and she knew she was being ridiculous, but she felt she had turned into a gorgon over night, ugly as an Unseelie, and it made her angry. She couldn't practice _kin-sa-dor_ or the sword on such swollen feet, nor with this huge belly. She felt depressed and guilty for yelling at her husband. But at the same time she wanted him to suffer a little. It was so unfair, that the woman had the burden of bearing the child while the man just watched.

Angrily, she pounded the pillow, then suddenly ended up crying into it.

After awhile, she sat up, berating herself soundly for acting like a child. She couldn't understand it. One minute she was furious, the next she was bawling like a baby. What in hell was the matter with her? _Mood swings. Auriane said this would happen. Pity she never told me I was going to feel like crap, and that I'd cry at the drop of a hat and lose my temper over nothing. _She groaned and stretched. Perhaps a shower would make her feel better.

She tottered into the bathroom and thanked the Bright One that there was a hot tub in the master bathroom. Clearly whoever had designed this house had done so with a woman in mind. She turned on the tap and ran the water, mixing in a fragrant citrus and honey bubblebath as she did so. Then she soaked in it for fifteen minutes.

When she finally emerged, she felt better. She hunted through her closet for something to wear, finally exasperated, she managed to enlarge one of her old tunics with a charm Severus had taught her. She then put on a pair of socks and opened the door.

And found her husband on the other side.

"How are you feeling?"

"I . . . like an idiot. I shouldn't have shouted at you. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"I do. You're pregnant."

"Now that's observant of you," she snorted.

He smirked. "Let me run a diagnostic on you. Then you can throw all the shoes in your closet at the wall." He urged, pushing her back into the bedroom.

She flushed and grumbled, "Don't treat me like a child."

"Don't act like one. Lie down." He ordered firmly, then waited until she had done so before drawing his wand.

He cast the standard diagnostic spell on her, listening to the twins' heartbeats. He ran his wand up and down her abdomen, then over her. "Do you feel any pressure down there? Any cramping?"

She shook her head. "No. Sev—"

"Shhh!" he gently palpitated her stomach, muttered another charm, then tucked his wand away. He straightened, his hand still splayed over her stomach. "All's well. Nothing to worry about."

"Thank heavens. Sev, I'm sorry."

"Forgiven. If my favorite boots didn't fit me, I'd be swearing a blue streak too," he said wryly. Then he drew her up and hugged her.

"It's not just that. I feel . . . so huge and ugly . . . I sound like a pathetic court lady . . . I could just kick myself . . ."

"Shhh . . . you're not ugly . . . you're beautiful."

"Liar. I look like a bloody hippopotamus."

"No, you look like a woman bearing a child." His hand slid down to cup her belly. "My children. And that makes you beautiful."

She started to tear up again. "Severus, I . . . dammit all!"

He kissed her then. It was the best remedy he knew to get his wife to stop crying, besides a handkerchief.

It worked.

"Have breakfast with me?" he invited.

"You didn't eat yet?"

"No. But I fed the children."

"You could have eaten. You didn't need to wait for me."

"I wanted to."

"Severus, you crazy fool."

They ate poached eggs with bacon on toast, Sarai drank a Nutrient potion and had some tea, Severus had coffee with his meal.

"I'm going to work out with Harry," he said, rising to his feet. "Why don't you put your feet up and rest in the den?"

She scowled. "I'm not a bloody invalid!"

"I never said you were, you stubborn warhorse. But your feet will keep swelling if you keep walking on them. You need to rest."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'll rest when I'm good and ready."

"Suit yourself, but don't come crying to me when your feet are so swollen you can hardly walk." He frowned down at her.

"I won't."

"Pain in the ass!"

"Look who's talking."

He tried another tack. "I seem to remember a certain person telling me when I was sick that I could either rest like a sensible person or be Stuck to my bed. What'll it be?"

"You wouldn't _dare_!"

"Try me."

Their gazes locked, hers indignant, his determined.

She glanced away. "Fine."

"I knew you'd see sense," he said, then he picked her up and carried her into the den, over her protests. She longed to punch the smug look off of his face.

Her mood didn't improve during the night. She found it almost impossible to get comfortable, and spent the night tossing and turning or getting up to go to the bathroom. She felt like she was roasting in the bed, but when she opened the window to get some relief, her husband woke up and complained he was cold.

"If you don't like it, sleep on the couch," she growled.

"I think I will!" he snapped, then took his pillow and did just that.

She finally fell asleep around two in the morning.

The next day, she woke and found a pair of very soft oversized boots beside her bed. They fit perfectly. She took back everything unkind she ever thought or said to him. When he came in to wake her for breakfast the next morning, she kissed him until he was quite breathless and apologized.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

But as her pregnancy advanced, Sarai found herself confined more and more to the house, as it became difficult to walk comfortably. For an active woman, used to riding or martial arts, sitting or lying on a couch day after day was maddening. Now the twins were moving about, and while she still considered it a miracle each time she felt one of them move, and so did her husband and the boys and Nesmay, the novelty had worn off. Especially after being kicked one too many times in the ribs one night, and the bladder the next night. She wondered if it were possible to get internal bruises. Or if the babies were staging a war inside of her.

In the beginning of the month, she could still walk about for short distances outside and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. But lately it had grown harder to walk down to the orchard, and then Severus insisted she rest because now her ankles were swelling as well.

"I think you're retaining water." Her husband had said.

Sarai had laughed. "Tell my bladder that. Every five minutes I'm running to the bathroom."

"You need to rest more."

"Sun, Moon, and Stars! Severus, I already sit around doing nothing all afternoon! How much more rest do you want?"

She knew he meant well, but she had never liked being confined even if it was for her own good. So she became irritable and snippy, and lost her temper.

Things that never would have roused her ire before suddenly made her explode. Such as Harry and Draco arguing too loudly over Quidditch teams and what player was better. One afternoon they came bursting into the den, where she had been resting, her feet on an ottoman, reading her fifth book that day and longing to talk a walk through the orchard.

"Everyone knows Andrew Montheath's a better Seeker than ratty old Cosgrove," Draco sneered.

"Montheath's a cheating scheming bastard!" Harry protested.

"What? He is not!"

"Is too!"

"You're just saying that 'cause the Magpies whipped the Cannons' arses last game."

"Because they cheated!"

"Harry, for Merlin's sake, why don't you—"

"Shut up, the pair of you!" Sarai yelled, her head was pounding, she was bored out of her mind, and the last thing she needed was this.

The boys turned and gaped at her.

She glared at them.

Harry apologized.

But Draco scowled and said cheekily, "Merlin, we were just talking about Quidditch. Take a Calming Draft, Mum."

Sarai's eyes narrowed. "Get out! I don't want to see your faces before supper. Speak like that to me again, Draco Michael, and you'll be polishing fifty swords for me!"

The boys turned and fled, though Draco grumbled under his breath about touchy pregnant women until Harry elbowed him in the ribs.

Nesmay had been coming in from the garden to get a drink and heard the whole thing. She quickly followed them outside, not wanting to see the cranky warrior and risk getting the sharp edge of her tongue. "Draco, that was stupid."

He spun on her. "Mind your own business, Nesmay! Merlin's pants, but what the hell's wrong with her? She's a worse grouch than Dad!"

"Well, how would you like it if you were stuck in the house all the time, no flying, no sword practice, and you were big as a house, your feet were swollen and your bladder became the size of a peanut? I'd bet we'd hear you bitching and moaning at Hogwarts," Nesmay defended.

"Shut up, Nesmay!" Draco grumbled. "She doesn't have to bite my head off."

"Dragon, you were cheeky with that last comment," Harry said. Then he added, "It must suck being pregnant."

"She knew what she was getting into. It's not my fault she's snappy as Hungarian Horntail. She ought to yell at Dad."

"Draco!" Harry reproved.

"What? It's true."

"She's in pain and sick most of the time. You ought to try and understand," Nesmay put in.

"_You_ do that, Nesmay. After all, you're going to go through it someday."

Nesmay shook her head. "Like hell. After seeing this, I'm never getting pregnant. I'll adopt first."

For some reason, that made her brothers laugh.

"It's _not_ funny! Boys!" she scowled, then stalked off.

"Girls!" they called after her.

"What are you boys arguing about now?" demanded their father, stepping out on the porch. "I could hear you all the way in my study."

"We were just talking about Quidditch and Mum went all crazy," Draco informed him. "She needs to take a Calming Draft."

"Draco, that's enough!" ordered Severus. He ran his hands through his hair. "You need to understand that your mother's at a difficult stage in her pregnancy and she's short-tempered because of it. She's frustrated and in pain and you need to be patient with her. She doesn't mean to blow up at you, son, but she's like you and me when we're sick, hell on wheels. Understand?"

Harry nodded immediately.

Draco mumbled something.

"Excuse me?" Severus demanded, his eyes hard. "Would you like to repeat that?"

"No, sir."

"I thought not. Go, go and fly or something." He waved them off. Then he went back inside.

"I sure hope Hermione's not like this when she's pregnant," Draco muttered. "Or I'm moving out until the baby's born."

Harry snickered. "Do that, and you might find yourself sleeping in the shed, Draco. A husband's supposed to help his wife when she's expecting, not abandon her."

"I'll hire a nurse," the other said smugly, before heading down to the pond.

"Poor Hermione!" Harry whispered before following him. He would never do that to Katie.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

When Severus went back inside, he found Sari groaning and rubbing her temples while sitting on the lounge chair. "What's wrong? Headache again?"

She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with pain. "I feel like my head is being . . . beaten with hammers."

He quickly fetched a Headache Remedy from the potion's cabinet and asked softly, "Can you get this down?"

She eyed it dubiously. "I'll try."

He Summoned a teaspoon and poured a measure, then attempted to feed it to her.

The first time she coughed and it came back up. Severus held a towel to her lips. After a moment, he said, "Try again."

This time the spoonful stayed down. He continued feeding her spoonfuls at intervals until the vial was empty.

She sighed as the terrible pounding dulled to something bearable. "Thank you. Much better. Where are Draco and Harry?"

"Outside."

"Tell them I'm sorry I snapped at them."

"They'll live. They were loud and obnoxious, I could hear them all the way in my study. Lie back and close your eyes." He sat on the arm of the lounge and began to gently massage her temples, moving his hands down her neck and then back up again, rubbing all the tension away. "How's that, better?"

"Yes."

She relaxed, enjoying the feel of his hands, which soothed her immensely. Just then she felt movement. "Severus, one of them is turning."

He stopped massaging and moved so he could put a hand over her abdomen. "Where?"

"Here," she guided his hand to where she had felt one of the babies kick.

There was a flutter, then a sharp kick.

Severus grinned. "I felt him that time!"

"Or her."

"Yes, or her. Must be getting restless in there." He placed his hand on the other side and was rewarded with a hand poking out. His dark eyes were wide with awe and delight. "I think they're wishing they could come out and meet their father."

"I'm wishing that too, Sev." His wife said, smiling. "You'll see him soon," she told the babies, patting her stomach. "I cannot wait for them to get born. Then I can get back to normal and stop being an annoying bitch."

Severus laughed quietly. "You're not as bad as some. I'd be worse if I had to deal with it. How are your feet today?" he asked, examining them.

"They're not quite as bad as yesterday. What's really driving me insane is not being able to go outside. I miss the sky and the sun."

"Why didn't you say so? I would have brought you out on the porch."

"You were busy, I didn't want to be a pain in the ass."

"You're being a pain in the ass now, because you didn't tell me. Sarai, I'm trying my best to make you comfortable, but how can I do that if you won't tell me what you want or need? I hate seeing you in pain and depressed, so for the love of Merlin, ask me when you need something!" he said shortly.

"I'm not used to asking anyone for anything."

"I know. You and your warrior pride."

"What I want most of all is to bloody walk out on the porch myself."

"Right now you can't, but I can accompany you." He helped her sit up, she put her arm about his waist and stood. He would have preferred to carry her, but he didn't want to insult her pride. So he compromised. "Come on, take your time."

Sarai leaned heavily on him, even though she tried not to. But her feet were swollen and felt like blocks of ice, she swayed like a ship under full sail, and if not for Snape's arm about her, would have probably tumbled over.

It took them ten minutes to reach the porch, and Severus helped her sit down in one of the porch rockers and put her feet up on a bench. The sun streamed down, caressing her face, bringing out the auburn highlights in Sarai's dark hair.

Sarai drew in a great lungful of sweet air and sighed. "Ah . . . I needed this."

Severus sat beside her. He basked in the sun, letting the warmth and light play across his pale face and hands. He gazed lovingly at his wife and said, "You know, I'm the most fortunate man in the world."

"And I am the most fortunate woman. But we sacrificed much to get where we are."

"More than I thought possible. But it was worth it." He pulled her foot into his lap and began to massage it. "I'm sorry this pregnancy isn't agreeing with you, but I can't help feeling fascinated with how they're growing inside you, love. I missed all of this the first time around, with Lily. This is like a second chance for me, and I plan on being there for all of it."

"You say that now. What about two months later, when you're woken up every five hours by a screaming baby?"

"That won't matter. It's something all new parents go through. And for once I'm going to be a father from day one, instead of skipping all those years. I can finally see a child of mine take his first steps, say her first word, eat his first bite of solid food, sleep through the night. I never shared that with Harry, Draco, or Nesmay."

"You also missed out on changing dirty nappies, colic, and cutting teeth," Sarai reminded him, chuckling.

"True. But you take the good with the bad, and this time I can experience all of it, from the moment they're born."

"You're going to be a remarkable father, Sev." She leaned over and kissed him. "Not that you aren't already."

"I love you, Sarai."

"Love you too. Now, don't you think we had better come up with some names for these children?"

"Mmm . . . I suppose. But not right now." He continued massaging her foot until it was limp. She fell asleep before he had finished the other one, but he continued anyhow. Once he was finished, he placed her foot back on the bench, then dozed in his chair, one hand holding his wife's.

When the three children returned to the house, that was the sight that met their eyes.

"Should we wake them?" Nesmay whispered.

"Nah. Let them sleep, Nessie." Draco shook his head.

"We can fix supper ourselves," Harry said decisively. "They look so peaceful there. It's probably the first good sleep they've had in weeks."

The young wizards slipped into the house, Harry to set the table and Nesmay to make a large green salad. Draco went to get his fishing pole, he was in the mood for fried trout tonight, and the fish were biting.

**A/N: In the next chapter the twins arrive! If you would like to submit names for them and haven't already, please feel free to do so in your review. **

**On another note, I won't be updating any of my stories for at least four days, as I am going to visit my sister in the hospital on Friday, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and is having surgery this week, and I want to be there to offer her my love and support. I am praying she will do well and survive this cancer. **


	71. New Arrivals

**71**

**New Arrivals**

Nesmay splashed her feet lazily in the water, watching as her two foster brothers frolicked in the pond. It was a steamy hot day, the sort of day when smart people stayed inside and read, or lay on the porch and sipped ice cold lemonade or water. Nesmay thought about following the boys' example and going swimming, but the sun felt so good on her back that she decided to stay right where she was.

She half-shut her eyes, wishing these days could last forever. But this was the last week of their second vacation. They had remained three months at the Manor and tomorrow evening Severus would re-adjust the timeclock to bring them right back to the day and time they had departed, which was August 5th around 10:30AM. Thus giving them August to go shopping for school and for Sarai to give birth to the twins. And for Nesmay to try and get in some more spell practice before Severus and the boys left for Hogwarts.

The boys had asked her if she would like to attend school with them, but Nesmay had decided not to . . . for now. She was uneasy and awkward around large groups of people, and her control over her magic still was not what it should be. She didn't want to accidentally blow up the dungeons or set fire to the Astronomy Tower over a disagreement. Besides, Hogwarts was for humans, and Nesmay was half-fae, she feared her appearance would set her apart even further than her lack of magical control did. Also there was her human heritage—she would be shunned and detested if they ever learned who had sired her. They had discussed the issue with their parents and Severus had said it was up to Nesmay if she wished to attend.

"I'm not ready. I'm sorry, but I just don't feel . . . comfortable."

"That's all right," soothed her mentor. "You do not have to attend this year, Nesmay. You can continue with the curriculum I have set for you, and I'm sure that Sarai can teach you more fae spellcraft. You in turn can also help her with the babies."

Nesmay heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Thank you, _Amarsi_."

"And come visit us on the weekends," added Harry.

"That sounds like fun," the fae girl said.

"It'll be wicked, having to show you all about the castle and Hosgmeade, introducing you to the professors and the rest of our friends," declared Draco.

Nesmay nodded eagerly. She wouldn't mind brief visits, but preferred Prince Manor over any mortal castle, no matter how magical. She suspected Sarai felt the same.

Not long after settling that matter, Harry and Draco had decided to take advantage of the hot day and go swimming. Nesmay had tagged after them, and it was when they were down at the pond that she recalled Draco owed her an answer to a question.

"Draco!"

Draco surfaced, shaking water out of his hair like a seal. "What, Nessie?"

"Before you came down with the plague, I asked you why humans are so ashamed and embarrassed about their bodies. You promised to answer me, but you never did because you got sick. So . . . can you answer me now?"

"Ahh . . . err . . . well . . . umm . . ." Draco flushed the color of a ripe strawberry then coughed and said, "It's not that humans are ashamed of their bodies . . . well some people are, if they think they're too fat or ugly or something, it's more about modesty. You see, in our world, if a woman displays . . . err . . . herself without clothes on, she's seen as a . . . loose woman . . . a woman should only let her husband or boyfriend see her naked."

"What's a loose woman?"

"Err . . . it's a woman who trades money for sex."

"Oh, you mean a Black Dove," she clarified. "They pleasure any man who can pay them, and that's the polite term for one of their profession. Gran forbid me to ever say the other word, or else I'd be tasting soap for a week."

"Yeah, that's what I mean."

"Then you've seen Hermione naked?" she inquired innocently.

Draco suddenly inhaled some water and began to choke.

Harry whacked him on the back, laughing.

Draco sputtered, "Shut up, dork!" Then he turned to Nesmay and said, "Of course not! We're not married yet or even betrothed!"

"Oh. How about you, Harry?"

"Not me. Draco's right. Once you're married, you can see your wife naked. Or your husband."

"How odd. How can you tell if you like the other person's body if you don't see it beforehand? What if you marry her and can't stand the sight of her? Then what?"

Now it was Harry's turn to blush. "Uh . . .then you live with it. Marriage isn't just about looks, you know."

"Then you wouldn't mind marrying an orc?" she teased.

"Yuck! I'd have to be crazy to marry something that eats human flesh." Harry wrinkled his nose. Then he decided to escape any more pointed questions by diving down to bottom of the pond.

"But I learned that there were humans who did bathe regularly with each other, they were called Romans and their baths were the wonder of the world." Nesmay pointed out.

"Yes, but that was over two thousand years ago," explained Draco. "Things were different back then. Less civilized. Can we please change the subject now?"

Nesmay smirked. Then she jumped into the pond, dousing him with a huge wave.

"Brat! Just wait until I get my hands on you!"

"You'd have to catch me first, and I learned how to swim with water nymphs," Nesmay challenged, and swam away, Draco in hot pursuit.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The week they returned to real time at the manor, they were greeted by a parliament of owls bearing gifts and letters for the whole family. The first letter and gift were from Sirius, Petunia, and Dudley. Sirius sent the parcel with his new owl, Mischief, a gray barred Northern Gray owl. Mischief took the small shrew that Severus gave him and tossed it into the air, catching it neatly in his beak before swallowing it whole and hooting. His hoot sounded oddly like a child laughing.

"Figures. Black would have a show-off owl," Severus rolled his eyes at the bird's antics. "Here, Sarai. You can open the package, it's a baby gift." He began to read the letter aloud to her.

"_Dear Severus, Sarai, and family,_

_Sirius and I were delighted to hear your good news. Finally, I shall be an aunt again, and have new babies to spoil. Twins, even! I'm hoping for one of each, as I would dearly love a little niece to shop with, and Sirius can teach his new nephew how to play Quidditch and practical jokes. I'm sure you cannot wait for them to be born. _

_I've picked out two outfits for them, hopefully they are neutral enough to fit either a boy or a girl. The plushies were Dudley and Sirius' contribution. Please let me know when they are born, I would love to see them. God bless and keep you,_

_Love,_

_Petunia, Sirius, and Dudley_

"Sev, look!" Sarai exclaimed, holding up two fuzzy sleepers, one was yellow with small suns and moons embroidered on the left side, and one was white with baby animals embroidered on the right side. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"They look very nice," Severus agreed. "I'm sure they'll be nice and warm in them, which is good, because the dungeons are chilly." He gently stroked the fleecy garments. "I'll put a few charms on them so they're water and flame resistant. Stain resistant too."

"I shall write and thank Petunia immediately." Sarai said. "These were also included." She pulled out two plushies, one a green snake, the other a unicorn.

Hot on the heels of that letter was another from Phil and Julie. They also expressed their delight with the impending birth and sent two beautiful baby quilts, made by Julie, and teething rings and small booties.

Phil wrote:

_Severus, you're going to get no sleep for quite some time with twins, take it from one who knows. Sometimes one twin sleeps and the other is awake, you'll need to get them on a schedule as soon as possible. Eventually, they'll start doing things together, but it takes a month or two to get them synchronized. _

_Write me if you have questions, I'll be glad to help you. Finally, more little Snapes!_

_Julie and I are honored, brother, to stand as godparents._

_Give the boys a hug from me and tell them I hope they've been keeping up with their sword practice._

_Love,_

_Phil and Julie_

Hermione wrote back to Draco, and sent some knitted baby caps she had made herself.

Professor McGonagall sent a note of congratulations and small coats of blue and green plaid, as well as some self-warming bottles.

Flitwick sent animated jumping jacks, and Albus a griffin rocker—a rocking horse shaped like a griffin that made realistic sounds and all.

From Pomona came a magical talking growth chart and two entwined cherry trees. Poppy sent a case of potions geared for a baby's delicate system and her fond wishes too.

Other professors, like Sinistra and Trelawney, sent gifts of money for the twins.

Harry received letters from Ron and Katie, asking how his summer was going. Harry wrote back, telling them about his second holiday and the twins. Ron knew about them, but he'd forgotten to tell Katie, he wrote her an extra long letter filling her in on his adventures in the fae kingdom and the expectant babies.

Even Nesmay received a short message from Titania, inquiring about her well-being, and sending her some pocket money.

After placing all the gifts into the nursery, Sarai declared she was going to rest, at this stage she was almost always achy and tired. Her feet were swollen and she immediately hobbled to the recliner to put her feet up and take a nap. By then she waddled and her belly was so big that she joked she probably needed two chairs.

As the due date dew closer and closer, Severus became more and more nervous. Sarai had begun having small contractions, false labor, but it indicated that soon she would deliver. After one such incident, Severus went down to the study and paced for half an hour, trying to calm himself down. He prayed he wouldn't have to deliver the babies himself, and resolved to message Auriane tomorrow.

_Nervous?_ queried Sev Prince from behind him.

Snape turned, hiding the fact that the ghost's entrance had nearly made him jump. "That would be an understatement. I've gone beyond nervous to insane."

The ghost chuckled. _I remember those days. When my wife Victoria went into labor the first time, I was an absolute wreck. Thought I was going to have to pick myself up off the floor. _

"You fainted?"

_No, but I almost did. That was back in the day when men weren't permitted in the delivery room. I drove myself crazy imagining all kinds of awful things, I was so damn scared I had to take a Calming Draugh_t. _Every time I heard Vicki scream I wanted to either break down the door or hex myself. My father gave me a bottle of summerdew and I drank the entire thing. Then I passed out. My mother nearly beat **him** senseless when she came in to announce the birth of my daughter, Lydia, and found me dead to the world! But she used a spell to wake me and once I saw the baby and Vicki were fine, the summerdew haze was banished. _

"Were your children born here at the manor, or in the palace?"

_My eldest was born here, with a fae midwife in attendance. But after Lydia, Vicki opted to take advantage of the palace hot springs, and our other three were born there._

"Sarai wishes to have ours in the palace. I have no objection, and feel that whatever makes it easier on her is best."

_That's a good attitude, Severus. Don't worry. Captain Valinek is strong, she'll be fine. _

"I keep telling myself that, but still . . . I worry."

_That's only natural. But you have to think positive. Think about how wonderful it will be to hold your babies in your arms. It's the most glorious feeling in the world. Trust me on that._ Sev Prince said fervently. _It's been over a thousand years since my Lydia was born and she has long since gone to her reward, yet I have never forgotten that moment when I took her from the midwife and held her close. I felt as if I had been given a miracle and I wept._

"Was it the same when you had your other children?"

_Oddly enough, it was. Each birth is different, and so is the child. My son, Severn, was a quiet baby, hardly ever cried unless he was hungry. My smallest child, Aurielle, had a set of lungs on her to rival a banshee, you could hear her all over the house. I guess she was afraid we'd forget about her. My last born, Julian, was inbetween those two._ The ghost smiled reminiscently.

"Who turned out to be the heir of your children?"

_Severn was chosen then,_ the Guardian answered. _But the next generation, the manor chose Julian's daughter, my granddaughter Meliara. She married and had a single son who was killed in battle with the Scots, and then the manor chose his cousin, my great-grandson Tiberius Prince. _

"And now it falls to Harry," Severus said quietly.

_He's a strong boy, Severus. He'll do well._ Sev Prince told him. The ghost reached out and patted his namesake on the shoulder, becoming momentarily solid to do so._ Try not to worry so much. It'll all work out for the best. Have you chosen names yet for your twins?_

"Not yet. We have some picked out, but Sarai thinks that when the babies are born we'll know better which name fits them." Severus said. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me."

_I have nothing but time, Severus. And part of my duty is to make sure my descendants are content and happy,_ laughed the Guardian. _It's little enough to help you out._

With that, the ghost bowed and then vanished.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Two weeks later:_

Severus was awoken out of a sound sleep by Sarai shaking his shoulder.

"Sev, wake up! It's time!"

He sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face blearily. "Time for what?"

"Your children to get born," she replied, grimacing as another contraction hit.

"You're in labor?" he cried. He immediately Summoned his trousers and shirt and magicked them on. He tugged on his boots and stood up. "How far apart are the contractions?"

"I'm not too sure . . . seven maybe five minutes . . ." she panted.

"We have to get you to Healer Auriane." Severus said. "Smidgen!"

The shimmerling appeared, landing on his shoulder. _:Severus, what do you need?:_

"For you to wake Harry, Draco, and Nesmay. Tell them we're going to the Seelie Court, their mother's in labor."

_:On my way, Sev!:_ the shimmerling blinked out.

Some seven minutes later the three children appeared, wearing casual clothing, yawning and blinking sleepily.

Severus chivied them before him to the Gate terminus and he followed holding his wife's arm.

He activated the Gate with a single word in the fae tongue, and it shimmered to life, granting them passage between the mortal realm and the Summer Country. They stepped through and the portal shut behind them.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Far off in the frozen wastes of the Unseelie Realm, Maeve, Queen of Winter, listened to the report of her spy in the Seelie Court. She gave a cold smile upon hearing that Lady Sarai, former Captain of the Queen's Blades, and now wife to Severus Snape, Lord Prince, was having twins and had just come to the palace to give birth.

_So . . . the half-breed's marriage with the mortal wizard has borne fruit. But we shall see if the seeds flourish or not. _A hand clenched upon her silver and jet carved throne. _It was because of them that my son was exiled, made a slave to my sister Gloriana. Jarillion failed me badly, he may as well be dead to me now. Even so, he was still my son, and no one harms a member of my house and gets away with it. _

Maeve's smile became twisted with cruel anticipation. _They say revenge is a dish best served cold. And there is nothing so cold as the finality of death, or the ice about my heart. _The dark queen bowed her head, calling upon all of her powers of destruction.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Sarai walked about the stone pool, gritting her teeth through another contraction. Walking on each side of her were Healer Auriane and Severus. The children were sent to wait in the family wing of the palace, and were dozing in Nesmay's suite. Smidgen would fetch them after the twins were born.

She paused, breathing in short deep breaths. Severus mopped her brow with a cool cloth. Auriane monitored her contractions with a spell.

"Not bad, my lady. Eight centimeters, you're almost there."

"Ten. I have to be ten," Sarai panted, trying to ride out the crest of pain.

"You're right. Let us walk some more." Auriane urged.

They walked about the room for another half-hour, while the contractions grew stronger and stronger. Finally, Sarai was dilated enough and then Auriane cast a spell on her to minimize the pain.

"It's nearly time to push. Let's get into the water," Auriane said, helping her, along with Severus, to remove her clothes and step into the pool of warm water. The water was up to Sarai's middle and soothing candles were lit along the water's edge. In the background a subtle melody was playing.

Sarai still felt the contractions, and she squeezed Severus' hand hard, but the pain was not as acute as before. Now she felt a great urge to bear down.

Auriane stepped into the water wearing a very short tunic that came to mid-thigh. She crouched down in the pool, ready to catch the baby when it started to crown.

"Are you ready, my lady? Center yourself and focus, and breathe with the pain. Now, on the count of three—_push_!"

Sarai obeyed, pushing down hard.

"Good! Again!" urged the Healer.

Sarai floated in the water, it cradled and supported her while she struggled to bring her children into the world. Some thirty minutes later, her daughter slid out of the womb and into the pool of water.

Auriane caught her, tied off the cord and cut it, and lifted her from the water. No sooner had she done so then the girl let out a loud cry. "Congratulations! You have a beautiful daughter!"

She gently toweled off the howling baby, then diapered her and put on a small smock and wrapped her in a soft blanket. She moved back and handed the baby to Severus. "Here, my lord, meet your new little girl."

Severus took the tiny crying bundle and stared into her eyes. They were a gray-blue, like the sea after a storm, and she had a tuft of dark hair. Her ears were slightly pointed, and her skin was like cream with a hint of honey. "Hello, little one. You're finally here." He managed to say, his voice full of wonder.

"And already giving your daddy fits," Sarai said. "Bring her to me, Sev."

Severus approached the pool, where Sarai floated, and knelt to show her the baby. "Say hello to your mama."

Sarai reached out a hand and stroked her daughter's cheek. "I bless thee, and call thee my daughter, Victoria Alyssandra Snape. Victoria for your many times great-grandmother and Alyssandra for mine." She turned to look at her husband, tears of joy shimmering in her eyes. "Do you like that choice, Sev?"

"It's a beautiful name, Sarai. Just like our daughter, who I think is starving." He gently kissed the baby on the forehead. Then he rocked her back and forth.

The Healer looked up at them. "You can let her nurse a bit, my lady. 'Twill bring on your next set of contractions, so your other baby can be born." She helped Sarai sit up and cradle the baby to her breast.

Little Victoria quickly began to suckle. Sarai beamed down at the baby and murmured, "She has your hair, Sev."

"But not my nose," he laughed. Then he just stared at his new daughter, and his heart overflowed with love for the precious child created from their love. She was indeed, a miracle. And like Sev Prince before him, he wept tears of joy.

The baby had only started to drink for about five minutes when another contraction rippled through Sarai. She stiffened. "Auriane, I just felt another one."

"Give the baby to your husband, lady. We have some more work to do." The Healer instructed, monitoring the baby's heartbeat.

Sarai gently removed Victoria from her breast and Severus took her. Then she gasped as a large contraction clenched her. "Ahhh! Auriane, I think I need to push."

"Do so," the Healer said.

Severus watched, holding the whimpering infant, as his wife fought to bring the second twin into the world. He wished he could have taken away the pain his wife suffered, for even with the spell, there was still pain. Victoria fussed and he whispered, "Hush, little one, soon you'll have your twin brother or sister here."

Auriane's attendant approached him and said, "My lord Snape, might I take your baby for a moment, so you can hold your next one?"

Severus reluctantly handed her Victoria, then went back to Sarai and whispered, "You're doing fine, love. This is almost over."

"Once more, my lady!" Auriane called.

Sarai pushed, and all at once the second twin slid into the pool.

"It's a boy! You have a son as well," Auriane announced, tying off the cord. Then she lifted the baby boy from the water.

The boy was smaller than his twin and did not begin breathing immediately. His skin remained a light bluish tone. Alarmed, Auriane whispered, "Breathe, little one." She gently tapped the baby on the back, but the boy remained unresponsive.

"He's not crying," Sarai said suddenly, a terrible premonition sweeping over her. "Why isn't he crying?"

Auriane murmured a spell, but still the baby would not breathe. She could feel the infant grow cold beneath her hands and she began to massage him frantically.

"What's wrong?" Severus cried, sensing there was something amiss.

"He's not breathing, my lord!" the Healer cried.

Severus paled, then took the baby and tried to give him CPR. _Come on, son! Breathe for me. Please! Just once. Just breathe!_ Over and over he puffed air into the tiny lungs.

"Sev, what's going on? What's wrong with my son?" Sarai cried, struggling up from the pool. She was aching and sore but she had to know what was going on with her son. She had heard that he wasn't breathing.

"Lady, don't move," Auriane cautioned. "You still need to deliver the afterbirth."

"Auriane, what's wrong with my baby?" she whispered, dread stealing through her. "Go and save my child!"

"Oh, Lady Sarai, I cannot . . . for he's—"

"No!" Sarai shouted. "Don't say it!" She turned and looked about for her husband, only then seeing him cradling the tiny blue-skinned infant in his arms, bending his head and blowing into the baby's mouth and rhythmically pressing down on the little chest, and all the while tears streamed down his cheeks. "Bright Lady, please. Spare our son!" she pleaded, her voice breaking.

But it was no use.

Severus continued working on the baby, now using magic to try and stimulate the tiny scrap to no avail. Despair overwhelmed him and he sobbed aloud, "Please breathe, Alexander, please!"

Victoria began to wail as her father held her twin's limp form to his chest.

Auriane came over and gently examined the baby. "I'm so sorry, my Lord Severus. But he's gone." She made as if to take the still form, but Severus jerked away.

"No! Let me hold him. Just a minute longer. Maybe the magic just takes time to work." He hissed, rocking the baby, though he knew what he had said was ludicrous. The Reviving Charm worked instantly . . . upon a live recipient.

"Sev, let me see him!" Sarai cried.

His steps leaden, Severus brought the tiny boy over to his mother, who clutched him to her chest and whispered, "I bless thee and name thee Alexander Severus. My poor son!" Then she kissed the top of his head and began to sob.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

In her throne room, Maeve, Queen of Air and Darkness, threw back her head and laughed, withdrawing from her Globe of Seeing. Her revenge was complete. Her spell had smothered the tiny spark of life in the baby before his mother had had time to bless him and give him her protection. The Unseelie monarch grinned maliciously and called for some frost wine, intent upon celebrating her victory. Let her enemies weep, as she had, over the loss of their child. _A son for a son. A life for a life._

**A/N-I would like to thank everyone who gave me names, they were very helpful. For those interested-Victoria means conqueror, victory. She's a survivor. Her middle name, Alyssandra means- noble defender or man's defender. **

**I know this chapter ended tragically, but maybe it was expected, considering Maeve's vindictive nature and hatred for Sarai and Severus. **

**Next: See how the Snape family handles this devastating loss. **


	72. Darkest Before Dawn

**72**

**Darkest Before Dawn**

Severus felt despair settle over him like a smothering cloak. From the beginning, he had feared something would go wrong, and now that it had, he was helpless to do more than wonder why. His heart was torn asunder by grief, not his alone, but that of his beloved wife as well. It seemed impossible that between one moment and the next, the living baby was so suddenly snatched from this life and sent to the next. _Merlin, why? God, how could you do this to us? What have we done to deserve this?_ He remembered holding the small body of his newborn son, light as air, and struggling to get the infant to breathe, giving the tiny baby his breath, all to no avail. The child had been dead before Auriane had given him to Severus. Still, he had tried to revive his son.

He held Sarai close, trying to offer her comfort, but he felt hollow inside and the words he spoke fell upon deaf ears. They were in a large bed, with Victoria in a cradle beside it. The baby slept, Sarai had roused long enough to nurse her daughter. Titania had come in soon after Sarai had delivered, sensing perhaps that all was not right. The queen herself had cried upon seeing the poor lifeless baby, and had hugged Sarai and murmured how sorry she was about their loss.

"I grieve with you, cousins. There is no greater loss. I know that all too well." Titania had said. Then she added, "But you must remember . . . you were given the gift of a daughter today. Cherish her and love her, for she is the fulfillment of all your hopes and dreams. And cherish your sons and Nesmayallindra as well. May the Bright Lady have mercy and may time soothe your heart and mend it."

The grieving parents heard her words, and later would think on and comprehend them, but at the moment they were too lost in sorrow to pay much attention to their living children. The death of their innocent son tore and shredded them and all they knew was that their precious little one was gone. Baby Alexander would never open his eyes and gaze upon the world, never say his first word, or take his first step, or choose his own wand, or play with his siblings. He had died before he could even live, and for Severus and Sarai, it was a terrible tragedy.

Victoria seemed to sense the loss of her twin as well, and cried and whimpered in her sleep.

Normally, Sarai would have risen immediately to hold her child, but her grief bound her in chains far stronger than iron. She was exhausted and hurting, both in body and spirit, and all she wished to do was sleep. But sleep eluded her, as it did her husband. She could not believe her baby was gone, when she had felt him kick and move within her for nearly eight months. She had so looked forward to meeting the restless little imp. But now that would never be.

_My poor son! I loved you so much! I wished I could have seen you grow up._ There was a great hole in her heart, an aching abyss that threatened to swallow her, and though she tried to fight it, it dragged and sucked at her with the force of a sinkhole. And Sarai, who had once been Captain of the Queen's Blades, First in skill and war, found she had no defenses against the harrowing grief that clutched her. Weeping silently, she buried her head in her husband's shoulder.

But unlike other times, Severus' presence failed to banish her pain. It crept up behind her like a black beast and devoured her.

She did not even argue when Healer Auriane gave her a Dreamless Sleep potion, which she normally would have refused. Instead she gulped the draught, welcoming the bliss of oblivion for a few hours.

The diminutive Healer turned then to Severus. "Would you like one as well, my lord?" she asked softly. She had washed and wrapped Alexander in a blanket, then washed her own face clean of tears. But her eyes were bright with sorrow. "Lord Severus, forgive me for not being able to save him. He was . . . he never took a breath and I wish I had more Art . . ."

"Not your fault," Severus said gruffly. "You did your best, Auriane. There was no more you could do."

"Or you either." Auriane whispered sadly, knowing he felt the scourge of guilt far stronger than she.

"I should believe you, but all I can see is that when my child most needed me, I failed him," the wizard said bitterly.

"No, my lord Snape. Not even you are proof against death. None of us are. This . . . is something that often plagues my people. We have never birthed easily or often. When Lady Sarai became pregnant so swiftly and the pregnancy progressed so well, I had hoped . . . the babies would be born healthy and thrive and so would she. I should have expected this . . . one in ten fae births result in stillbirth, but I had hoped that being mostly mortal might counteract that . . . It is why we celebrate the birth of a child so much . . ." Her voice broke. "What will you tell your older children?"

"The truth," he said bleakly. But right then he couldn't stand to be the bearer of such tidings. He felt as if he was falling to pieces, and in a way he was. "Smidgen," he called hoarsely.

_:I'm here, Sev.:_ came the shimmerling's gentle mindvoice. _:My condolences upon the loss of your son. May he walk forever in the lands of the Blessed. Would you like me to tell the children about their new sister and brother?:_

"I would . . . be very grateful, Smidgen."

_:Consider it done, my friend.:_ Smidgen said, then she blinked away to where the Snape children were staying, anxiously awaiting news about their stepmother and the twins.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

When Smidgen appeared in Nesmay's suite, she was greeted with a multitude of questions from the elder Snape siblings.

"Are the babies born?" asked Draco.

"Is Sarai all right?" from Nesmay, who had spoken to her aunt, Morgana, about childbirth earlier that day. The fae princess had told her the truth, that it was both the best and the worst thing a woman had to endure.

"What did she have?" Harry wanted to know.

The shimmerling settled upon Harry's shoulder, her crippled wing unable to bear her weight for long. _:One at a time, please!:_ she sent. _:Yes, the twins have been born. Sarai is well as can be expected. She gave birth to a girl and a boy.:_

The siblings cheered, and Harry gave Draco a smug look.

"Told you so, Dragon. Now you owe me ten Sickles."

"When can we see them, Smidgen?" Nesmay asked eagerly.

_:Soon. But children, I have some bad news to tell you, so don't celebrate just yet,:_ warned Smidgen, and her mindvoice was filled with sorrow.

Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. "What's wrong, Smidgen? Is it Dad?"

_:No, Harry. Your father is well, or as well as can be expected when dealing with the loss of his newborn son.:_

Nesmay gasped. "No! Smidgen, you can't mean . . ."

"One of the babies is dead?" Draco whispered, his gray eyes horror-stricken.

"How could that happen?" Harry asked, dumbfounded.

Smidgen tried to explain as best she could. _:No one really knows, Harry. Sometimes . . . a baby is born with something wrong . . . something inside . . . that didn't develop properly and so . . . I am sorry.:_

"Wasn't there something they could do?" Draco cried.

The fae cat shook her head. _:Healer Auriane and your father did all they could. Little Alexander Severus never drew breath. He was smaller than his sister, Victoria Alyssandra, maybe he didn't have the strength to survive the birth. Sometimes things like this just happen and all you can do is accept it.:_

"The poor little thing!" Nesmay said, crying.

"Poor Dad," added Harry, his own eyes wet.

"And Mum too," Draco reminded. His eyes were dry, but reflected a deep pain.

_:'Tis a day full of sorrow and joy:_ Smidgen sent sadly.

"Can we see them?" Harry asked abruptly. "The babies, I mean?"

_:Of course. Come, I will show you where they are,:_ Smidgen purred, and directed them to the suite where Severus and Sarai were staying.

Severus barely registered that he had visitors in his suite, he was so lost in sorrow. Normally he would have been alert and aware, but the black despair had hold of him and his normally keen senses were dulled. He looked up when Smidgen spoke into his mind.

_:Severus, my friend, your children have come. Won't you acknowledge them?:_

Only then did he look up and see Harry, Draco, and Nesmay before him. All looked as if they'd been crying.

"Dad?" Harry said, uncertainly. He had never seen his father in such a state.

Severus looked suddenly old, his face carved with deep lines of distress, his eyes deep pools of suffering and grief. He sat hunched in a chair beside the bed, as if the burdens of the world were on his shoulders. His hair hung listlessly in his eyes.

"Harry. Would you like to see your new sister, Victoria?" He indicated the cradle. "Just don't wake her. She's sleeping."

As Harry tiptoed to the cradle, Nesmay came and embraced her guardian. "Oh, Severus, I'm so sorry about the little boy!" She clung to him, weeping.

"I know," he said, gently patting her back, tears shimmering in his eyes.

The sight of his father's tears scared Draco, who had never seen Severus, the indomitable wizard, cry. Draco just stared, swallowing sharply. He wanted to tell his father he was sorry too, but was afraid to speak for fear that he too would cry, and that wouldn't help poor Severus at all. So he turned and went to view the sleeping baby in the cradle, and looked also at Sarai, who was sleeping peacefully.

Harry looked up as Draco approached, his green eyes bright with sorrow and awe. "Look at her, Dragon," he said in hushed tones. "Isn't she the most beautiful baby there ever was?"

Draco stared down at the sleeping infant, and was moved by the tiny scrap. Baby Victoria was still a little red-faced, and her ears were slightly pointed, a throwback to her fae ancestors. One little fist was lying aside her nose and she had a thick tuft of hair, dark like both her parents. A delicate spidersilk blanket of rose and white was wrapped about her, making Draco think of a rosebud.

He gently reached down and stroked one petal-soft cheek. "Hey, baby sister. You really are the prettiest baby ever."

"And the smartest too," Harry murmured, gently touching the small hand.

"And why wouldn't she be?" Nesmay asked, coming up to look over Harry's shoulder. She was wiping her eyes with Severus' handkerchief. "She's a Snape, after all." She gently blew the baby a kiss. "Sleep well, sweet Victoria." She blotted her eyes again and smiled.

Draco shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He looked over at Severus, who was looking at his wife, a mixture of pain and tenderness upon his face. He opened his mouth reluctantly to ask where the other twin was, and Smidgen sent that baby Alexander was in the sitting room, lying in a tiny rosewood casket.

Draco began to walk slowly towards the entrance to the sitting room. He didn't want to see the dead infant, but knew that if he didn't, the whole horrible thing wouldn't seem real to him.

Harry looked up and wondered where Draco was going.

_:He goes to see your brother,:_ Smidgen sent.

Harry reluctantly left his little sister and followed.

After a few moments, Nesmay did also.

They found Alexander Severus sitting atop the low wooden table, having been washed and dressed in a small blue tunic, and wrapped in a warm indigo spidersilk blanket. Like his twin, he also bore dark hair, but his face held the waxen pallor of death. The funeral aides had Glamoured the child's skin to a normal color and not the blue hue he had been born with.

All three children gathered about the casket and stared at the infant within.

"He almost looks . . . as if he's asleep," Nesmay whispered.

"I know. Like he'll open his eyes any minute." Draco coughed, feeling tears sting his eyes. "I always wanted a little brother to teach stuff to. Like how to ride a broom."

"And catch the Snitch," Harry sniffed, dashing a hand across his eyes.

"And climb trees," added Nesmay. She was silent for a moment, then she burst out with, "It's not fair! Both of them should have lived!" She bit her lip, then buried her face in her hands.

Harry hugged her. "I wish I knew a spell to bring him back. It's just about killing Dad that he's gone."

"I wanted to say something, but . . . what could I say that would help him?" Draco admitted. "This just bloody sucks and there's nothing anyone can do about it." He bowed his head. "I hope you're happy in heaven, little brother."

"I'm sure he is," Harry said, then he kissed his fingers and gently touched them to the baby's forehead. "Rest in peace."

They remained for a few minutes longer, staring at the still form of the newborn.

All at once, Nesmay pulled free of his arms and ran out of the room.

"Nesmay, wait!" Harry called, and started after her, only to be drawn to a halt by Draco.

"Harry, let her be. She needs to have herself a good cry."

Harry nodded in understanding, thinking that so did his brother. And himself too.

Slowly, they made their way to their suite of rooms, which was right next to Nesmay's. Silently, Draco lay down on his bed, not bothering to undress, just kicking off his shoes.

Harry forced himself to get undressed, then huddled beneath his covers, recalling his father's stricken face. His heart twisted in anguish and he turned his face into his pillow and allowed the tears to flow. He didn't know who he felt sorrier for, Severus or Sarai. It was such a terrible burden to bear.

Across the room he heard soft sniffling and he knew that Draco too wept, mourning what could have been.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Victoria woke Severus out of a sound sleep, wailing to be fed and changed. He had been sleeping next to Sarai, dreaming of chasing a little boy with dark hair and green eyes down an endless gray road when his daughter roused him with her banshee shriek.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sat up, and winced. He felt drained and weary, but forced himself out of bed. A wood sprite hovered above the cradle.

"My lord Snape, do you need assistance? I am Nanny Oakheart."

"I . . . I think she's hungry," Severus yawned, his brain felt stuffed with cotton wool.

"Yes, and wet. Here," the wood sprite was about half the size of a human, with iridescent wings that bore her aloft. She was wearing a simple brown tunic and apron embroidered with acorns. She expertly lifted the screaming baby and held her.

She summoned wet cloths and a fresh nappy with a snap of her fingers. Then she showed Severus how to change the baby. "See? It's simple, once you know how. But she needs her mother's milk."

"Should I wake Sarai?"

"No, let her rest. The babe can nurse without her waking." The sprite said, and showed the new father how to place the baby so she could nurse while her mother slept.

Once Victoria was suckling, held by her father's arm, Nanny Oakheart told him to call if he needed anything, and vanished.

Severus continued holding his baby girl until he began to doze, then he shook himself awake.

The baby was now sleeping, having drunk her fill. He gently picked her up and placed her back in the cradle.

Then he returned to his wife, seeking solace in dreams.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

But when Severus awoke several hours later, he found that Sarai burned with an unnatural heat. He rolled over and clasped her by the shoulders as she moaned and stirred. "Sarai, love, are you ill?"

Her eyelids fluttered and she opened them. "Sev?"

"I'm here. How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Weak. Sick."

"Can you nurse Victoria?" he asked, for the baby had woke as well and was bawling.

Sarai lifted her head, it swam with dizziness. She was hardly ever sick, her fae blood gave her a hardy constitution that shrugged off most illnesses. Now, however, she felt sicker than she had ever felt in her life, sick with sorrow and longing, with an unrelenting grief that would not be assuaged. "Bring her to me," she murmured, struggling to sit up.

Her husband rose and picked up the baby. "Hush, sweetling." The baby's shrill wails made his head ache and he was glad to hand her to Sarai.

Sarai cradled her baby close, managing to open her loose tunic and allow the child to drink. The baby sucked greedily, and Sarai winced, for she was tender. Still, she endured, for her child she would endure anything. She found herself dozing off again, unable to keep her eyes open.

"Sarai? You seem like you have a fever," Severus murmured, leaning over her.

"I feel hot and cold all at once. Take Victoria. I don't want her to get sick," she muttered, feeling herself slip back into the gray realm, where the pain of losing her son was muffled. She felt the baby being lifted out of her grasp, and relaxed back onto the pillows. She fought to stay awake, for what she had to say was important. "Sev, I want . . . you to bury Alexander at the manor. He belongs with his ancestors. Promise me." Tears fell onto the sheet drawn about her.

"I promise. You need to rest." He started to turn away, about to call Smidgen to fetch Auriane.

Then he felt Sarai clasp his sleeve. "Wait!"

"Yes?" Severus turned.

"Take our daughter to the manor, Sev. I want her to stay there. There's something . . . not right here. I feel eyes . . . eyes watching."

"I don't understand. What eyes?"

She grimaced. "I can't explain it. But Victoria is safer at the manor, Severus."

"Of course she is. But you talk of her as if you won't be there with her."

"I won't. I can't risk making her sick, don't you see?"

"Auriane will make you well, Sarai." Then he hurried out of the room, sending a mental command to Smidgen to call the Healer. His heart went cold with fear. _Not my wife too. Please, not my wife too._

She drifted, only partially aware that he was no longer there. Fever scorched her, draining away her strength bit by bit. A part of her fought, but a greater part of her was content to let the flames lick at her, to submit. _Don't give up, you have a daughter to care for, a family to love,_ whispered a fragile golden voice. But another urged her to surrender to the smothering dark, for the child she had carried beneath her heart was dead, and things would never be the same. She had sipped from the cup of bitter sorrow, and her heart had shattered. _Oh, Titania, how did you bear it? I have lost dear comrades before, but they died fighting, their deaths had meaning. What meaning was there in the death of a child? Even worse, there was nothing I could do to save him. _

She groaned softly, a tortured moan of pain and loss, and let the fever embrace her.

"This is no natural fever," Auriane said to Severus gravely, after spending exactly five minutes examining her patient. "You know that, don't you?"

Severus stiffened. "What do you mean? Is it the result of a curse?"

"No. Not in the way you mean. No enemy placed it on her. It is of her own making, the _scathcalliel_, the grief-sickness."

Severus went pale. He knew of but one other who had that particular ailment, and she had died from it. "But she isn't pure fae. It shouldn't affect her this way!"

Auriane's eyes met his. "Grief is grief, Lord Snape, whether mortal or fae. I cannot measure the depth of sorrow, only observe the results. And a mother grieving her lost child is the same, no matter if you're human or fae. I have seen worse though," she added kindly, knowing he would understand of whom she spoke.

_Aislinn,_ Severus' thoughts whispered her name. He shuddered. But Sarai was not the lost princess, seduced and abandoned by her cruel mortal lover. She did not bear the shame and despair that Titania's daughter had, along with her unwanted child. Sarai had a husband and family who loved her, a daughter who needed her. "It's not the same," he said vehemently. "I won't let her go."

"That's good," the Healer said approvingly. "She has a strong spirit. I'd lay odds she'll return to you." She gently spooned a fever-reducing cordial between the warrior's slack lips, stroking her throat to make sure it was swallowed. "But for now . . . she wanders the thorny path." She sighed. "Has your babe fed recently?"

"About an hour past."

"Mmm. That will probably be the last time."

Severus' brow wrinkled. "Why?"

"The fever has begun to burn away her milk. She'll lose it before night falls."

"Can't you do anything?"

"No. It affects both mind and body. You'll have to substitute formula. The nursery sprites make it, I can send for several crates. Don't worry, several generations of the royal house have thrived on it."

Severus relaxed slightly. "I suppose there's no other choice. What else can we do for her?"

"Not much. Dose her with standard fever reducing potions. Give her plenty of liquids when she wakes, wipe her down with a soft cloth and just stay beside her. That's important, because she needs to know she has someone to come back for. She is a very courageous lady, more so by far than I. I have never had courage enough to bear a child, and I have been married for over thirty years."

Severus just nodded. He felt worn to the bone, awash in sorrow, and afraid for Sarai.

_:Sev, the queen comes!:_ came Smidgen's harried thought.

Severus straightened, quickly Transfiguring his sleeping attire into his court robes just before there came a knock at the door and then a Blade opened it, announcing, "Her Majesty, Queen Titania, and Lord and Lady Valinek."

Titania entered, dressed in her queenly iridescent court gown, and was followed by Sarai's parents, Juliana and Gwydion. "Forgive the intrusion, Severus," the Summer Queen said. "But I took the liberty of informing your in-laws about the birth and they insisted upon coming here."

"You have our deepest condolences, Severus," said Gwydion gravely. He looked like the quintessential fae lord—tall, blond, with cat-like green eyes and pointed ears. His sun-gold hair was set off by his black attire, but Severus knew that he was no court popinjay. He was as unconceited as a fae noble could be, having broken all the rules to marry a mortal woman, and remain faithful to her until death parted them.

"If there is anything you need, you have but to ask," Juliana said, her eyes were red from crying. "Her Grace took us to see the little one . . . he reminded me so of my Janus . . ."

At Severus' puzzled look, Gwydion explained, "Our firstborn, who died a few hours after his birth. Sarai never knew him, and we hardly ever speak of him, for it hurts too much."

"But see, Juliana, your granddaughter. She is a beautiful child, and shall bring joy to her family." Titania went and lifted a sleepy Victoria from the cradle and gave her to her grandmother.

Juliana held her granddaughter close, breathing in the scent of milk and honey and innocence and she smiled even as her eyes overflowed. "Ah, such a precious thing. Gwydion, meet your granddaughter."

The fae lord came and looked upon the baby tenderly, murmuring, "She's as beautiful as her mother. May she grow up strong and proud." Then he looked away at his son-in-law and said, "Forgive me for my bluntness, but do you need to make funeral arrangements, Severus?"

"Yes, my lord. I do. But it's going to be a very small ceremony." He glanced back at Sarai. "Would you please stay here? Sarai is ill, otherwise I would consult her, but circumstances being what they are . . ." he trailed off.

"She would understand, dear," Juliana said compassionately.

Healer Auriane bent and whispered something in Gwydion's ear and he nodded.

The Potions Master rose and left the palace, traveling through the Gate to the manor first to unlock the gates of the cemetery, which was located on the lefthand side of the wood, invisible until you knew the incantation to remove the veil that shrouded it. Once he had done so, he prepared a plot of ground for his son, right next to his own piece. Surrounding the grass space were the graves of all the other Princes and their families, in neat rows with white marble tombstones. Then he asked Smidgen to inform Philip and Julie about the sad news, and returned to the Summer Court to gather up his children.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

It was a small solemn gathering there under the aspens and live oaks. There were Philip, Julie, Gwydion, Harry, Draco, Nesmay, Smidgen, and Princess Morgana, who was there to represent her mother. Juliana had to stay behind, for she could not enter the mortal realm any longer or else she would die, she had been too long in the Faerie Realm, and she would watch over Sarai. They laid Alexander Severus Snape to rest in a short memorial service led by Philip, who in his time had once been captain of a trading vessel and was also the most religious minded among them.

"And so we commend the soul of Alexander Severus to the arms of Almighty God and His Son Jesus. May he dwell in heaven with the angels and the Lord. He will be sorely missed. From earth we came, to earth we return. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Amen."

Severus gently lowered the casket into the ground, and slowly each of the mourners tossed a handful of dirt into the grave.

Philip gestured and the grave filled itself with earth. Julie spoke a word and the ground was covered in sweet heather and delicate flowers. Gwydion picked up a white rock and muttered over it. It became a large marble slab which he set in the earth. It bore no inscription. "That is for you and Sarai to do," he told the grieving Severus. "May you someday find peace and your heart heal."

As if on cue, the sky suddenly opened up and it began to rain.

Victoria, who had been held by Julie, began to cry. "We should go inside, Sev," she suggested, tugging a fold of a blanket over the baby's head.

"Go, all of you. There are refreshments on the table. Harry, would you mind serving the tea for now? I'll be along in a bit." Severus said woodenly.

"I'll do it," Nesmay said. "Otherwise they might be wearing the tea instead of drinking it," she said, ignoring Harry's glare.

As they hurried inside, Severus knelt in front of the little headstone, his head bowed, unmindful of the rain. _My poor son! Your life is over before it has even begun, and not all the magic in the world can bring you back. Or at least, no magic of the Light._ He knew that there were dark spells to summon the dead back to life, or a semblance of it, but he would sooner cut off his arm than use them. He did not want an unnatural monster for a son. "Goodbye, sweet Alexander. May you be forever blessed, and may you return to me someday, in spirit if not in body. They say the souls of the innocent are always granted a second chance, may it be so."

He kissed the tips of his fingers and touched the headstone. _"_Angels watch over you, my beloved child."

He doubled over, his body wracked with sobs, and the rain fell in shimmering silver sheets, as the land mourned along with the Heir to Prince Manor.

**A/N: I would like to thank all my readers for their continued support for this story. I know that the past chapter and this one are filled with sadness, but please bear with me, it does get better! I know many of you are upset with my decision regarding the baby, but bad things do happen to good people, and the good guys don't always have an idyllic life and triumph over everything. The Unseelie are dangerous opponents when crossed and a powerful villain like Maeve isn't to be taken lightly at all. There has to be a balance, and sometimes the bad guys win for a time. I didn't do this to make Severus and the family suffer, but because death and grief are a part of life and can and do often happen unexpectedly. I know because I lost three of my relatives last years to various illnesses in the space of eight months. **


	73. A Time to Mourn and a Time to Heal

**73**

**A Time to Mourn and a Time to Heal**

Thirty minutes had passed while Severus grieved, and Harry thought about going outside and seeing if his father were all right, but Phil had told him to let Severus be. "Your dad needs time, Harry. Time to grieve, and privacy. He'll be all right."

"But it's raining," Harry protested.

"It's a light summer rain. He'll be fine." The vampire assured.

"Will he?" Harry wasn't at all sure about that.

"In time." Phil said heavily. "In time."

Nesmay served tea, trying to play the good hostess, as she had been taught. Morgana and Gwydion ate some cakes and drank an obligatory cup, but they were doing so from politeness and not because they were particularly hungry.

Draco took some tea and a scone, and then shared it with Smidgen, finding that the food tasted stale in his mouth. He didn't know what to say or how to react at a funeral, and so he said nothing, wishing everyone would go away and leave them in peace.

Finally they heard the soft sound of the back door closing and then Severus appeared in the doorway, looking like a drowned cat. Cafall went up to his alpha, whining and licking his hand. The young hound's paws scraped Severus' knee, and Cafall barked softly, wanting to play.

"Down!" Severus ordered.

Cafall immediately lay down, whining softly.

Severus ignored the pleading dog and waved his wand, drying himself off. "Do any of you wish anything else to eat or drink?" he asked mechanically.

They all shook their heads.

"Forgive me, Severus," Morgana rose. "But I must be leaving. I have council meetings in about an hour. You have my deepest condolences, cousin." She embraced the distraught Potions Master and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Remember, sorrow's river is deep, but not endless. If I can be of service, you have but to ask."

"Thank you, Your Grace." Severus said.

Morgana gave him a sad look before departing.

Soon afterwards, Gwydion also bid them farewell, though Severus knew he would see his father-in-law back in the Summer Kingdom.

Severus watched as the older fae walked out the door, thinking of his wife, whose grief had caused her to become deathly ill. Severus prayed she would come back from wherever her soul wandered, for he could not bear to lose her.

"Sev, come and sit down," Julie said, gently clasping his arm. "Why don't you have a sandwich and some tea? You look about done in."

Severus shook his head. "I'm not very hungry." He mumbled. He looked once at his daughter, asleep in Julie's arms, then looked away. It was too painful to gaze upon her long, she was a reminder of the son he had lost.

"I know, but you need to eat," Julie said. "You don't want to become sick, do you?" She beckoned Nesmay to bring him a sandwich and a cup of tea.

Severus sat down on the sofa and just stared at the refreshments. He looked pale and drawn, his eyes two bleak pools.

Julie turned and said softly, "I think I'd better put this small one to bed. Draco, would you show me where the nursery is?"

"Of course," Draco said, eager to get out of that room. He led Julie down the hall to the nursery.

Severus picked at his food, feeling numb and weary. All he wanted to do was to sleep for a year, so he could forget the terrible thing that had happened. All that prevented him from doing so was that Sarai needed him, and also that sleep was no guarantee of eluding nightmares.

Harry watched his father, noting how depressed Severus seemed to be. It scared him, for he had never known the older Snape to give in to despair. He didn't want to lose his father as well as Sarai. "Dad? What do we do now?"

The plaintive note in his son's voice made Severus raise his head and look over at Harry. The boy looked about as miserable as Severus felt, worrying his lower lip till it looked about to bleed. That was a habit Severus had tried very hard to break the younger Snape of during their extended summer holiday, and Severus knew it was stress that had caused Harry to backslide. "I . . . have to go back and stay with Sarai. She needs me to be there for her."

Harry nodded. "Okay, but what about the baby?"

"She needs to remain here at the manor. It's what Sarai wants. Sarai thinks that she will be safer here than in the palace."

"Who's going to take care of her?" asked Draco, just returning from the nursery.

"I can hire a nanny, one of the wood sprites of Titania's household offered to help," Severus answered.

"Severus, a wood sprite can only be away from the Summer Kingdom for twenty-four hours at most, then she needs to return and rest for at least two days. They are quite sensitive to the presence of iron and the lack of fae magic in the mortal world." Phil reminded him. "They're Low Court fae, remember?"

Severus rubbed his temples, he was beginning to develop a headache. "Of course. I know better. Perhaps . . ." he trailed off, trying to think of a solution.

Suddenly Harry spoke up. "It's all right, Dad. We can take care of Victoria."

"We? Who's we?" Draco sputtered, staring at his brother as if he had grown an extra head.

"Me, you, and Nesmay." Harry replied.

"But Harry, I don't know the first thing about taking care of a baby!" Nesmay squeaked.

"So we'll ask the nanny. How hard can it be?" Harry said firmly. "We're none of us stupid, we can figure it out."

"We can?" Draco gaped at him. His brother had gone off the deep end.

"Sure we can. Dad, don't worry, we'll manage. Right?" he gave Nesmay and Draco a sharp look.

"I'll try," Nesmay said. "Julie showed me how to feed and burp her."

"Just remember, this was your idea, Harry," Draco grumbled. "I'll do my best." Now he felt sick. He wasn't ready at all to be taking care of a baby.

"I can show you the basics," Julie offered. "I would stay and help out, but the twins start school this fall, and I need to get them ready."

"That's all right. She's our sister, we can learn what to do. And we'll have the nanny to help us." Harry said, sounding more confident than he felt. But he knew he had to do this, that it was the right thing to do. For all of them.

"If you're sure, Harry?" Severus asked.

"I am. You just tell Sarai to get well from us and that we're waiting for her to come home where she belongs."

The relieved look in his father's eyes told Harry that this was the right decision. Family needed to take care of family. Clearing his throat, Harry went into the kitchen to grab a glass of merlinna juice.

Draco followed, hissing angrily. "What the hell are you thinking? Just let Dad hire a nanny."

Harry scowled. "Who's he going to get on such short notice? He doesn't have time to advertise and interview people, Draco. He needs to get somebody now, and I don't want him stressing over this. He doesn't need to be worrying about this when he's all broken apart over losing Alex and maybe Sarai too! Just trust me, Dragon. I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, sure," Draco snorted. "But I'm not getting stuck with changing nappies."

"We can all take turns. Don't be an ass, Draco. Do it for Dad. He needs us, even if he'll never admit it." He quietly drank off the glass of juice.

Draco sighed. "You know, I hate it when you make sense."

Harry smirked. "I come by it honestly." Then he left the kitchen and went up to Julie. "Show me what to do, Julie."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Phil suggested that Julie remain at the manor overnight to supervise things while he returned to their cottage and took care of their boys and Severus returned to keep vigil over Sarai. Julie agreed, and Draco, Nesmay, and even Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"If you need anything, or have a problem, send Smidgen for me," Severus instructed. He felt guilty leaving his teenage sons in charge of their sister, but he could not bear to be away from his wife for long. Though Healer Auriane had said Sarai was a fighter and not likely to give in to the grief-sickness, Severus feared that Sarai would succumb if he were not there beside her. Losing Alexander was bad enough, but if he lost his wife he feared he would shatter into a billion pieces.

As soon as he was back at the palace, he requested that Nanny Oakheart attend him, and asked if he might engage her as a nanny for a week or so. The wood sprite agreed, though she told him she could only stay beyond the borders of Summer for twenty-four hours at a time.

"I know. I just want you to make sure that my sons are caring for Victoria properly."

"That shall be no trouble at all, my lord." She gently patted his hand. "I shall cross over at first light tomorrow."

"That will be fine." He withdrew several Galleons from his pocket and handed them to her. "Will that be sufficient?"

Nanny Oakheart's eyes widened. "My lord Snape, that is more than enough!" She made as if to hand it back to him, but he refused. She bowed low to him. "You are most generous."

Severus just nodded wearily, and resumed his vigil beside his wife, who lay like one dead, her hand still and feverish in his larger one. He gently lifted her hand, which was scarred and callused from so many years of wielding a sword, and kissed her palm. "Beloved, come back to me. I'm here, even if our son is not. Right here, waiting. I love you, Sarai."

He waited to see if his words had any effect.

His wife's chest rose and fell, her breath hissing in and out, but other than that there was no change. Severus wanted to scream his frustration and fear to the heavens, but he kept still and silent. There was no sense in indulging in such histrionics. He sighed and continued to hold her hand, praying she would find her way back to him.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Back at the manor, Harry was penning a letter to Sirius and Petunia, telling them the good and bad news. He had just finished sealing it and tying it to Hedwig's leg when he heard the shrill wails of his baby sister. He opened the window for Hedwig to leave, then made his way across the hall to the nursery.

His baby sister was howling her head off, her little face all red and scrunched, her bluish-green eyes mere slits as she made her discomfort known to the whole estate. Harry crossed to her cradle and said, "Hey, little big mouth, you know I'll bet the runespoors can hear you all the way in their lair. What's your problem, huh?"

The baby blinked and stared up at him, her small chest heaving. Harry grinned down at her.

"Well, nobody can say you don't have the Snape temper, right?" He gently tickled her under the chin. Then he carefully lifted her out of the cradle, just as Julie had shown him, with his arm supporting her fragile head and neck and his hands beneath her bottom. She was dressed in a soft flannel nightie, with fuzzy pink socks on her tiny feet. "Bet you're hungry, hmm?"

Victoria nuzzled his chest, searching for nourishment. She made soft whimpering noises.

Her brother snickered. "Nothing there for you, silly girl." Holding her securely in his arms, he went to snitch a bottle of formula from the kitchen.

"I swear, that kid's got the biggest mouth in Yorkshire," Draco muttered crossly, smothering a yawn as he emerged from his room. "What's wrong with her now?"

"She's just hungry," Harry answered, walking into the nursery.

Draco shook his head. "Merlin, but she eats more than Hagrid!"

"Not really. It just seems that way," Julie put in. The vampire was wearing a casual blue nightgown with a matching lacy wrapper and comfy sheepskin slippers. "A baby's stomach can only hold so much at one time, that's why they eat so often." She watched as Harry sat down in the maple rocking chair and began to feed Victoria a bottle. "Angle it up a bit more. That's it. That way she'll get more milk and not so much air. You're doing very well, Harry."

"Don't forget to burp her," Draco added, smirking. Last time Harry had fed Victoria, he had forgotten to burp her after and she had puked all over him.

"I won't." Harry said, then eyed his brother. "Just remember, next time you have to get up with her."

Draco groaned. "Ah, come on. You're better at this than I am. She actually likes you."

"Draco, don't try and get out of it," Julie scolded softly. "The baby's too little to have a preference just yet, all she knows is that someone's holding and feeding her. If you take turns, she'll grow used to all of you, and that will make minding her that much easier."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'd rather she grow used to Daddy Harry and let me sleep."

"Too bad," Harry snorted. He watched Victoria sucking down the goat's milk based formula greedily. It was strange, but from the moment he had seen her, he had felt an immediate bond between them. Perhaps it was because she was so small and helpless and he had always been drawn to protect helpless creatures. Or perhaps it was the fact that she had lived while her twin died, thus making her survival that much more precious. Whatever it was, Harry could no more deny it than he could deny he was a Snape. He loved his small sister with a fierce endearing love, a love so consuming that it eclipsed the normal nervous fear most people felt upon taking care of a newborn.

Draco yawned repeatedly and watched his brother sleepily. He couldn't fathom how Harry could remain so calm while holding the little one. Draco was scared to death he would drop her, or hold her too tight and hurt her somehow. Last time he had held her she had squirmed and wriggled like a worm on a hook. Merlin forbid if he accidentally lost his grip . . . he could just see himself trying to explain to Severus how he had caused the baby to become brain damaged . . . At the same time, though, he envied Harry his natural easiness with the baby.

_He'll probably be a wonderful father, while I'll be the awkward screw-up that has trouble telling my kid I love you,_ Draco thought, scowling down at his slippers. _Thanks so much, Lucius._ But then another little voice intruded upon him, reminding him that while he had had the worst example of a father in Lucius, he had also had the best example in Severus. He yawned again.

"Well, looks like you have the magic touch, Phoenix. Since you don't need me, I'm going to go back to sleep for a few hours." Then he whirled and ducked back into his room before his brother or Julie could say anything.

Harry frowned. "How come he's acting so skittish?"

Julie chuckled. "He's just got a case of the jitters, Harry. It happens to everyone. He just needs time to adjust. In a week or two he'll be carrying her all over."

"You think?"

"That's how it was with your Uncle Phil." Julie smiled at Harry's pop-eyed expression. "Don't look like that. Phil isn't perfect, when the twins were born, he was petrified. I gave him Siryn to hold and he froze like a statue. You would have thought I gave him a time bomb. But eventually he learned that they wouldn't break and once he realized that, he was holding them every spare minute."

Then she moved and helped Harry position the baby so he could burp her.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Three days later:_

Draco tried shoving the pillow over his head, but it did no good. He could still hear Victoria screaming. He groaned and wished he could cast a Silencing charm on her. Then he wondered irritably why Nesmay or Harry wasn't going in there to see what her problem was. Until Smidgen perched on his shoulder and sent, :_Draco, it's your turn to do mornings:_

"No! I don't _do_ mornings!" he griped. "I _hate_ mornings!"

Smidgen gave a soft mew of exasperation. _:Harry told me to tell you that if you don't get up and help, he'll send a Snape Special your way.:_

Draco sat up, furious. "He what? Who does he think he is—Dad? I'll kill him if he tries anything like that!"

_"Well then, I'd suggest you go and see to your baby sister.:_ Smidgen purred, very amused.

Swearing under his breath, Draco got out of bed and padded down the hall to the nursery.

Suddenly Victoria's wails cut off and Draco heaved a sigh of relief. Perhaps the baby had gone back to sleep? Then he heard another voice, singing in a mellifluous tenor.

"_Bye lo, baby bunting_

_Daddy's gone a-hunting_

_Gone to get a rabbit skin_

_To wrap my baby bunting in"_

Shocked, Draco stopped dead, thinking for a moment that his father had returned and was singing to the baby. But then he recalled Severus' most recent message from Smidgen, that Sarai's condition was unchanged. "What the hell . . .?" he muttered, continuing onward. "Sev Prince!" he gasped upon seeing the Guardian of the manor hovering above the cradle.

The ghost was smiling down at the fussy baby, who was staring up at him in fascination, gurgling and waving her small fists.

"_Hush, pretty baby, don't say a word,_

_Uncle Sevvy's gonna sing you a song you never heard_

_When that silly song's all done, Uncle Sevvy 'll sing you another one."_

"You sing to all the babies that come here, or only my sister?" queried Draco.

The ghost chuckled softly and turned about. _Hello, Draco. That was how I made my living centuries ago. I was a wandering minstrel. Though some of my audiences were much more critical than this one._

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "I don't see why. You have one of the best voices I've ever heard."

_Thank you. It's nice to know I haven't lost my touch, even after all those centuries. I used to sing lullabies to my children every night until they grew too old. _

"How many kids did you have?"

_Four. Two boys and two girls. Lydia, Severn, Aurielle, and Julian._ The ghost answered, smiling reminiscently. _I am sure this little one will bring much joy to your family._

"Once she stops being so demanding," Draco huffed.

_Ah, Draco. Just wait until she's talking. Then you'll wish she was this size again!_

"I wish my dad were home with Sarai. Guess you think I'm a selfish snot for wanting him here, so he could take care of Victoria?"

_No, you sound like a fifteen-year-old boy who has been given more responsibility than he is ready for,_ Sev Prince answered.

"It's not that I don't want to help, but I'm just . . . afraid I might screw up and it's not like a potion where you can just vanish it and start over." Draco coughed.

_You're right. So you take it one step at a time._ The ghost instructed.

Draco reached into the cradle and carefully lifted Victoria out of it. She waved her hands and whimpered. "Hey, pretty girl. You going to give me a hard time or are you going to behave?" He gently tickled her under the chin, as he'd seen Nesmay do, and Victoria made a funny face at him. "Ugh! You're wet. Figures."

He set Victoria upon the small changing table, trying to recall Julie and Nanny Oakheart's lessons on changing nappies.

He carefully undid the old one, wrinkling his nose. "Yuck! You smell as bad as a troll, you know that?" He made a face at the baby.

"Uh . . . where are those throw-away cloths . . . oh, here they are . . ." Draco talked to himself as he changed the baby, amazed at how tiny she was. "You've got legs like toothpicks! And your feet fit in my hand!" He ran his finger teasingly down her foot and the baby squealed. "Ticklish, huh?" He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Me too. But you can't tell anybody that, all right? Shh!"

The baby gazed up at him and burbled.

Draco quickly finished changing her, using a simple Sticking Charm to keep the baby from parting company with her nappy. "Now what? You just ate two hours ago and you don't seem hungry. I'd put you back to bed but you don't seem tired. What do I do with you?"

_Why don't you try holding her and rocking her?_ suggested Sev Prince. _At this age, babies need to be cuddled and made to feel safe and warm and loved. You could even sing to her._

"Me? Sing? I can carry a tune, but I'm not like you."

_You don't have to be. The baby won't know the difference._

"I don't want to make an ass out of myself. Why don't you sing for me?"

_All right. You rock and I'll sing, _Sev agreed affably. He waited while Draco got settled in the rocker, the baby clutched against him stiffly. _Relax, boy. You look like you're about to be tortured, not going to rock a baby. _

"But she's wriggling."

_Yes, but she can't move any more than that. Just snuggle her next to you and remember to support her head and bottom. Like you were holding a loaf of bread. _

"Or a Quaffle," Draco muttered, finally relaxing and resting the baby in the crook of his elbow. He began to rock back and forth, slowly at first, and then more firmly as he realized the baby wasn't going to leap out of his arms.

Sev Prince began to sing, improvising on the "Hush Little Baby" lullaby.

Draco rocked and rocked, the motion infinitely soothing, and the baby in his arms cooed and sighed, stuck a fist in her mouth and sucked. She was warm and smelled like roses and honey. Her eyelids began to droop and Draco smirked. "That's it, little big mouth. Go to sleep. Sleep is good for you. I love to sleep in. Just take a long nap, okay, Toria? Listen to your elder brother now, 'cause I know what's good for you. Sleep while you can, 'cause as soon as you're old enough, Dad's going to give you chores and make you get up at eight in the morning."

Toria yawned and slowly her eyes shut . . . until she was slumbering peacefully.

_I did it!_ Draco thought triumphantly. That hadn't been hard at all. Smiling smugly, he rocked some more, the steady creak of the rocker and Sev Prince's soft voice conspiring to make him sleepy as well. He jerked away as he dozed off. _I almost fell asleep holding her. Merlin help me!_

He rose very slowly and placed the snoozing infant back in her cradle and rocked it with his foot till she settled.

Then he went back and sat in the rocker, figuring he'd better stay here just in case she woke up. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

An hour or two later, Harry and Nesmay rose and went to check on the baby. They found both Draco and Victoria fast asleep, snoring in tandem.

"Aww! How adorable!" Nesmay said.

Harry Summoned a camera and snapped picture.

"He's going to murder you for that," Nesmay predicted.

Harry just sniggered. "He can try."

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

_The Summer Palace_

_Faerie Realm:_

Severus dipped a cloth into the basin of cold water and sponged down Sarai's face, letting the water trickle down her neck and chest. She had been running the same medium grade fever for three days now, and despite all the spells cast and potions administered, it refused to break. The fever was not high enough to cause lasting damage, but Auriane feared that if it went on too much longer, it would drain Sarai's magical reserves.

The Potions Master gently blotted the water that had fallen upon the sheet. His hands stroked her hair away from her brow and rested for a moment upon her head. He did not speak aloud, but his love and concern were in his eyes. He had not been absent from her bedside save to take care of necessities and brew potions. He had Summoned the Stirrer of Efficacy from his home and used it to brew stronger healing drafts, doubling the volume of his solution with the magical item, as Sarai needed more and more Fever Reducers to keep her fever down.

Then he waited, conjuring all the patience he had learned in his duties as a spy, for his wife to return to herself, to conquer the heartbreaking grief that had enveloped her. But as the days and hours passed and still she lingered in that traumatic sleep, he began to lose hope.

He returned the wet cloth to the basin and resumed his seat on the upholstered chair beside the bed. He was surprised the chair did not bear the permanent imprint of his backside, given how many days he had spent sitting in it. Auriane and Juliana, who were also frequent visitors to the sickroom, had suggested that he return to the manor to visit his children for a few hours, but he refused, too afraid to leave and risk something terrible happening. The children were well, Smidgen had told him that Sev Prince was now assisting them in caring for Victoria, so he needn't worry on that score.

He picked up a history of the Summer Court he had been perusing and began to read, but his heart wasn't in studying and he soon drifted off into a hazy half-doze.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Somewhere in a twilight realm between light and shadow, life and death, Sarai roamed, searching for the spirit of her departed son. In her terrible grief, she had convinced herself that if she could only capture her child's spirit, she could bring him back to life. Such was impossible, and also forbidden by all the laws of Light, but her logical mind was mired in sorrow, and rationality had given way to desperation.

She had caught a glimpse of the little soul running down a long gray road and had hastened after it, but always it had eluded her. She had pursued endlessly, ignoring all the other voices calling behind her—her mother, Severus, Titania, Auriane, Morgana. All that mattered was finding her baby and restoring him to her.

A part of her knew that pursuing her son into Death's Kingdom was unwise, that she should just let him go, but her heart cried out for him to return. She knew if she could only touch him, everything would be mended. But the baby soul was surprisingly fast, and worse, did not seem to recognize her.

She kept calling him, "Alexander! Alexander Severus Snape, come back! Come to Mama, Alex!"

But the baby would pause, look at her in puzzlement, and then scurry away.

Alexander's soul seemed semi-solid, bearing her dark curly hair and luminous blue eyes, the deep indigo blue of a fine sapphire. He was clothed in a wispy dark robe, similar to one his father wore, and his feet were bare. He appeared to be about two years old, and looked as Sarai thought Severus might have at that tender age, a pixish cherub with a heart-warming grin, his curls tumbling down in his eyes.

Sarai did not know how long she had been in this odd realm, trying to catch a spirit that stood still for but a moment, but time didn't seem to touch this place. She was not tired, nor did she hunger or thirst. Her sole objective was bringing her wayward son's spirit back home.

On and on she ran, always keeping her child in sight.

"Alexander! Alexander!"

She _had_ to catch him, or else return to herself and that terrible aching sorrow, the awful knowledge that her child was gone forever from her. She redoubled her efforts and came with a few feet of the toddling baby.

Suddenly the baby soul stumbled, going to his knees upon the gray road.

Sarai saw her chance.

She lunged forward, her hand brushing the hem of Alexander's robe.

Then a pair of white elegant hands lifted the baby up off the road and held him close.

Sarai gasped. "No! What do you think you're doing?"

"Saving you from making a terrible mistake," answered the other spirit.

"Aislinn? Dear sweet Merlin! It's really you?"

"Yes, cousin." Aislinn smiled at her, holding Sarai's baby close. "I was sent to find this little one and protect him."

"But . . . you don't have to. I'm here for him." Sarai declared, drawing herself up.

She barely came up to Aislinn's chest.

Aislinn was wearing the same lavender and turquoise robes she had been buried in, the flowed and billowed about her like shimmerling wings. "Sarai, he must remain here. He's crossed over and now must dwell in the Bright One's Realm until She determines it's time for him to return."

Sarai shook her head stubbornly. "No! He belongs to me. I followed him here to take him home."

"You can't. His home is here now, in the Realms of the Blessed." Aislinn said, kissing the little boy's cheek. "I shall take good care of him, Sarai. As you have my daughter."

Sarai's eyes glistened with tears. "You know then, about Nesmayallindra? That Severus and I have, in a way, adopted her?"

"Yes, I know. And I am thankful beyond words to you. For now my child has a family who truly wants and loves her. I had hoped, before I travelled the Gray Road, that such would be the case. I promise the same shall be true of your baby, Alexander Severus. He will be happy with me in the Bright Lady's paradise. There is peace and contentment there, Sarai, and nothing ever dies, but remains ever young and full of life. Our hearts know only love and feel only joy for all of forever. Unless the Lady has other plans for our rebirth."

"Rebirth? Then do you think that perhaps . . . he could return to Sev and me someday?"

"That is up to the Lady, not me. But I would say that he might be allowed . . .since he is such a young innocent soul." Aislinn answered. She tickled the baby and he giggled.

Instinctively, Sarai reached a hand out to the child.

But Aislinn drew back. "Don't. You cannot take him back, and you'll only hurt him and yourself if you persist. You must let him go, Sarai. There is a time to mourn and a time to heal. He is safe and happy, here in the Kingdom of Forever. I am permitted to give you this assurance so your mourning will come to an end. Remember, you have another baby, his sister, to raise alongside Nesmay and your stepsons. They need you, your husband needs you. Go, my sister, back to those who love you."

"Aislinn, you don't understand."

"Yes, I do. I faced the same choice, but I was weak where you are strong. I loved my daughter, but not enough to stay. I had no husband like yours, whose love was stronger than the call of death. He waits for you. Go, Sarai. Be at peace, and know your son is also."

Then Aislinn reached out, and touched Sarai on the shoulder.

In the next instant, she found herself spun about like a cork bobbing in a whirlpool, swirled backwards and sideways through the gray realm until she fetched up beside a glowing doorway made of light. She stood up, brushed herself off. She was not hurt, merely a little confused. She looked at the doorway, and heard a familiar voice calling her name.

It was Severus.

"Goodbye, my precious son," she called over her shoulder.

Then she leaped through the doorway.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"Sev! Sev, wake up! I saw Aislinn, Sev . . . and she promised to take care of our son . . ."

Severus stirred, his mind wreathed in sleep's coils. Abruptly he woke, convinced he had heard Sarai's voice. He sat up, only to find himself staring into a pair of brilliant green eyes. "Sarai? Oh, thank you, Merlin! You're awake!" He reached for her, dragging her into his arms and holding her tight. "Your fever's broken, thank God! I was hoping . . . but then I thought . . . damn you, don't ever scare me like that again!" He shook her slightly, then crushed her to him, silent tears of relief and joy coursing down his face.

They clung to each other, reveling in the comfort of the other's arms and the profound fact that they were together once more. They wept together for the loss of their son and whispered endearments of love and gently kissed each other, beginning at long last to heal, coming out of the dark and into the dawn.

**Hope you all liked. See, things are getting better. I figure I have about three more chapters and this will be finished. I hope to finish this before Christmas.**


	74. The Precious Gift

**74**

**The Precious Gift**

Nesmay hummed an old fae tune as she carefully washed baby Toria in the kitchen sink. The baby enjoyed the warm water, delicately scented with lavender and honey soap, which was tearless. Nesmay had placed her upon a huge bath sponge, which was soft against her delicate skin, and proceeded to wash her with a soft flannel that Severus used upon his glass vials, it was non-scratchy and when wet, like the softest selkie pelt.

Nesmay showed the baby how to splash with her small hands and blow bubbles. The fae girl giggled and sang silly songs to Toria that she recalled her wood sprite nurse, Nanny Bayberry, singing to her when she was little. "All around the raspberry bush, Robin Goodfellow chased that weasel! But nary a hair could he catch . . . until . . . _Pop!_ . . . he got that weasel!" With every _pop_, Nesmay popped a large bubble above Toria's head, making the infant wave her hands and squeal.

"You like that do you, sweetling?" laughed the older girl. "I used to make Nanny Bayberry sing that to me over and over. You know, there really is a Robin Goodfellow too, only he prefers to be called Puck, and he's the queen's fool, because he always tells her the truth, no matter how unflattering it is, and can always make her laugh with his silly jokes. He taught me all about how to prank my stupid cousin Malchiar. And _I'll_ teach _you_ how to prank your big brothers, 'cause we girls have to stick together, right? Right?"

Nesmay tickled the baby's belly, making Toria squeak loudly.

"Hey, what's going on in here?" asked Draco, padding into the kitchen. "Great Merlin, Nesmay!" he gasped. "What on earth are you doing?"

The girl placed a hand upon the baby and turned her head. "Giving her a bath, what's it look like?"

"But . . . but . . . she's too little for that!" her oh-so-wise elder brother cried. "She could drown or catch pneumonia or something!"

Nesmay rolled her eyes. "Draco, for Merlin's sake! She's on a sponge, _not_ in the water, it _floats_, dinglehead! See? And I'm right here, making sure she doesn't tip off. And it's very warm out, over seventy degrees, so she won't catch cold! Honestly!"

Draco placed his hands on his hips, giving Nesmay a patented glare of disapproval. "Did Julie say you could give her a bath? Why didn't you wait?"

"Yes, Julie said I could. And if I'd waited till you decided to get your lazy behind out of bed, I'd be bathing her right when your parents came home," his sister informed him tartly.

"Why's she need a bath? She doesn't look dirty to me."

"Boys! She's nearly a week old, of course she needs a bath!" Nesmay nearly threw up her hands in disgust, recalling at the last minute that she should be watching her charge. "I mean, I know boys can go for days without seeing soap and water, but she's a girl and that's just . . . gross!"

"Hey! I take a shower almost every day!" objected Draco.

"Hooray for you! It's a miracle." Nesmay shot back sarcastically. Then she grabbed a large velvety soft towel from the counter and gently placed baby Victoria on it. After rubbing her dry, Nesmay applied some baby lotion and dressed her in an adorable mint green dress with matching fuzzy socks. "There, love! Now you're all ready to greet Mama and Papa when they come home today," she announced, cuddling the baby.

"What do you mean, when they come home today?" Draco repeated. "Is Mum better then?"

Nesmay smirked at the baby before drawling insolently, "Didn't you get the memo, my lord Dragon? Oh, I forgot, you were sleeping."

"What memo? Nesmay, you little pest! When did you find out?"

"About fifteen minutes ago, when a shimmerling arrived. They should be arriving here . . . oh . . . in about an hour or so, after they finish having breakfast with Gram."

"An _hour?_ Ahh . . . bloody hell!" swore the other, glancing about at the mess the house was in. Then he whirled and ran down the hall, shouting, "Harry! Get your arse up, we have to clean the house before Mum and Dad come home!"

"I _told_ him they should've done that last night," whispered Nesmay smugly into Toria's ear. Then she sat down and began to feed the baby her second morning bottle, the first having been given at six in the morning.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

After a rather reluctant Harry had been rousted out of bed by Draco and commandeered into cleaning the house, which didn't take all that long since the boys used magic to do so, they rushed to get dressed. Finally all of them were presentable and awaiting their parents' arrival.

When Severus stepped through the door into the manor, he felt all at once a sense of relief and comfort at finally coming home. Here at the manor, Sarai could recover from her ordeal fully, and he could find once more a sense of equilibrium. Or so he hoped. One eyebrow raised as he saw how sparkling clean it was, and his mouth quirked upwards in a pleased smile. At least his children had remembered to keep the house neat. A rarity with most teenagers he could name.

Then he was surrounded by his offspring, old and new. "Welcome home, Dad!" Harry said, hugging him. Severus was surprised that his son was as tall as his shoulder now, and perhaps might even attain his father's height one day. He hugged Harry back. Draco came next, and his blond adopted son could, almost, look him in the eye. Then Nesmay, his half-fae ward, slender as an aspen but livelier than a shimmerling. Her, he lifted off her feet in a hug, and she laughed and threw her arms about his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I missed you, Severus!"

"As I did you, hedgehog princess," he answered, setting her back on her feet.

Only to be set upon again by a very rambunctious Cafall, who bayed and licked his face, clearly excited enough to forget the manners Severus had drilled into him.

Severus ruffled the ecstatic dog's ears and thumped him on the side before ordering him to "Sit!" and then to "Stay!" The dog immediately obeyed, but his eyes were glowing with delight.

Then he turned to see his youngest, who was being held in the arms of her mother.

Sarai had a look of adoration and love upon her face that he had only seen once before . . . on their wedding day. Then it had been directed full force at him. He glanced down at the child she held so lovingly, noting the dark crown of hair, and the changing blue-green eyes, tiny snub nose, and rosebud mouth. She was sucking one fist and looking up at her mother with curiosity. So small, so innocent. He felt his heart seize with an overwhelming need to protect.

"You've grown so much!" Sarai was crooning to her daughter, her bright green eyes luminous with tears. "Sev, look at her! She must weigh about ten pounds by now! Isn't she the most beautiful thing?"

He nodded. "Of course. She takes after her mother." He gently reached out to run a finger down her cheek. "I believe she's going to have your eyes, Sarai. Green as new spring."

"We'll see," the former Blade said, and she walked into the den and sat down, cradling her baby close. "How was she? Did she sleep for you? Was she colicky?" she asked her older children.

Draco, Harry, and Nesmay were quick to fill her in on how well-behaved Victoria was and how much they had enjoyed looking after her, even Draco, once he got used to her.

Severus stood beside the doorway and watched the homey scene, only now he was stricken with guilt and sorrow. Sarai should have held another baby in her arms also. The fact that she did not pierced him to the quick, and suddenly he felt his head begin to throb and he could not bear to be among them, not with the terrible image of his lifeless son in his arms.

He turned quickly and fled to his chambers down the hall, all the joy in his homecoming gone.

Harry looked up from his baby sister and noticed that Severus was gone. "Where's Dad?"

Sarai glanced about, also noticing her husband's absence, and murmured, "He's probably gone to shower and have a nap. He hasn't been sleeping well these past few days, he's been too worried over me. I wouldn't be surprised if he was passed out cold on the bed by now. He needs sleep badly." Then she turned back to playing with her daughter. "I, on the other hand, have slept for far too long and been neglecting you, my sweet one." She bent and kissed the baby on the forehead. Victoria gurgled and reached out a tiny fist to grasp her mother's dark curls. Sarai winced, then chuckled. "A good strong grip. Suitable to wield wand or sword as you choose, eh?"

"How are you feeling, Mum?" Draco asked.

"I am much better," Sarai reassured her blond son. "Though I still miss Alexander, I know he is in a better place, in good hands." She then went on to tell the others about her vision and how Aislinn had come to advise and reassure her.

"You really saw my mother?" Nesmay asked, her tone soft with awe, her eyes sparkling with sudden tears.

"Yes, child, I did. She sends her love and is glad that you have found a home with us," Sarai answered, gently patting the girl on the shoulder. "I know Aislinn will watch over my son as I shall her daughter."

"I'm glad, Sarai," Nesmay murmured, then she clung to the older woman, weeping.

Draco coughed, uncomfortable with tears, and said quickly, "Well, I'm going down by the lake. I think a meal of freshly fried trout is in order to celebrate your return home." He looked over at Harry, who also seemed uncomfortable. "Want to help, Harry?"

"Hmm . . .oh, sure." His brother answered absently, his mind was on the way his father had looked when he had seen Victoria. Severus had had the strangest expression on his face . . . astonishment mixed with pain. Harry couldn't understand why his father would look like that upon seeing the baby. Then he shrugged. Sarai, was right, his father was just tired. Harry was sure that when Severus woke up, he would love Victoria like the rest of them did, without half trying.

Harry Summoned his fishing pole with a wave of his wand, then followed Draco out the back door.

Sarai gently stroked Nesmay's spiked hair as the girl wept against her. The baby in her other arm began to whimper, not liking the fact that Nesmay was distressed. _Even at such a young age, she's perceptive,_ Sarai mused, making a funny face at the baby. Toria suddenly belched loudly. "Goodness!" her mother laughed.

Nesmay sat up, dashing a hand over her eyes. "Sorry." She swiped her face with her sleeve. "I don't mean to act like a ninnyhead."

"Nesmay, if I had just found out that my long-dead mother had given a message to my stepmother that she loved me, I'd be crying too." Sarai said matter-of-factly. She fished in a pocket and handed Nesmay a handkerchief.

"I probably look a fright, as Gran would say," Nesmay rubbed her face with the cloth. She scowled down at her hands. "I shouldn't let my emotions run away with me. Gran always told me that a Highstar should maintain decorum at all times."

"I'm sure the queen would understand this once, Nesmay. Aislinn was her favorite daughter, you know, and she misses her still. You know, Titania once said to me that decorum was all well and good in the throne room, but in her private chambers she was free to scream, throw things, and cry just like everyone else."

"She did? I . . . can't picture her ever doing any of those things."

Sarai smirked. "I can. For she did, and I shared a cup of honey wine with her many a time afterward."

Nesmay's golden eyes widened.

"So you see, here at home no one will scold or laugh at you for indulging yourself in honest emotions, Nesmay."

"But . . . a Highstar is supposed to be brave."

"Even the bravest warrior cries," Sarai told her. "I know that better than any." She shifted Victoria in her arms. "I thank you, Nesmay, for taking such good care of Victoria for us. You and your brothers acted with great responsibility and maturity and I'm proud of you. So is Severus."

Nesmay felt as if she had won the laurel crown for excellence upon hearing those words. "I gave her a bath this morning. It was fun."

"Indeed. You'll have to show me how it's done."

"Don't you know?"

"I confess, I'm a novice when it comes to doing more than holding and dressing her," admitted the warrior wryly.

"I can show you. It's not hard."

"I bow to your expertise, Lady Highstar," Sarai said gravely.

Nesmay grinned. To have Sarai, one of the best warriors ever to dwell in the palace, praise her this way was no small achievement.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Together the two brothers caught about ten trout, a good enough number to feed everyone and have some for second helpings. Draco claimed he had caught more fish than Harry, six to his four, and Harry generously allowed him to say so, even if one of them had had to be thrown back. Harry was not in a mood to quarrel over something so trivial, he was too happy at the homecoming.

"No more getting up at the crack of dawn," Draco was saying as he cleaned the fish with a handy charm. "Finally I can sleep a bit before school starts."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, you really need your beauty sleep, don't you?"

"Shut up, Harry." Draco mimed throwing a fish tail at him. "All I can say is I hope Dumbledore hires a decent Defense professor this year, and not an idiot, an incompetent jackass, or a crazy bastard."

"I wish he'd hire Dad."

"Yeah. Or Mum, for that matter." Draco said feelingly. "Either of them would be brilliant. With Old Tom gone, he can afford to hire someone who knows what they're doing, since the post isn't cursed any longer."

"That's right. I'd forgotten about the curse and that's why no Defense professor ever lasts more than a year. So . . . do you think he'd give it to Dad?"

Draco shrugged. "Who knows? He could . . . I guess it depends on whether he could find a replacement Potions Master. That's not an easy subject to teach either."

"I guess we'll find out when school starts." Harry remembered something else. "Hey, this is our OWL year and the year new prefects are chosen. Think you'll be one?"

Draco considered. "Maybe. It's not like I don't have the ability. You either, Phoenix. I don't know who picks them, though."

"I think Dumbledore does, with suggestions from the Head of House. At least that's what Katie told me."

"Speaking of girlfriends . . . have you told Katie yet about losing Alex?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but maybe I ought to. I wrote to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Sirius. Katie will flay me raw if I keep it from her. I just haven't had time to write while taking care of the baby."

"Me neither. But now we do, thank Merlin! I'll send Hermione a note after supper."

Harry nodded, then he rose and picked up his string of cleaned fish, hopped on his broom and flew back to the manor. It was good to have his parents back where they belonged. Perhaps now things could return to normal.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

As Sarai had predicted, Severus had gone to shower and take a long nap, seeking solace in sleep. He slept for several hours. Upon waking, he saw his wife seated in the rocker, feeding their daughter. For long moments, all he did was watch them, his beloved warrior and the single surviving twin. The heartwarming domestic scene should have filled him with peace and joy. Part of him did feel that way. But another part felt fear mingled with guilt. What if he failed to protect Toria from something and she died? He knew he could not bear it if he lost his daughter as well as his son. He could still feel the fragile weight of his newborn son in his arms, limp and unresponsive. He could still recall the desperation and terror and then the gut wrenching grief that had followed. Now, he looked upon his baby daughter and felt his heart clench. He wanted to smother the child with love, yet at the same time never look upon her again.

He turned his head away, cursing himself for a coward in several languages. For Severus Snape was afraid . . .afraid to risk his heart only to have it broken again. He knew of only one way to prevent that, he had to distance himself from the baby, not grow too attached, lest it happen again.

"Sev? Are you awake?" Sarai's voice floated over to him.

For one instant he thought about pretending otherwise, then he turned over and looked at his wife, who had ten times the courage he did, for she was able to risk her heart over and over. "I am now."

"Would you mind holding the baby for a minute? I just need to use the bathroom."

He muttered something and sat up, allowing Sarai to place her in his arms.

"Now you be good for your dad, little one. Mama will be right back." Sarai told the infant, then she hurried over to the connecting bathroom.

Severus held the baby stiffly, refusing to look at her. He recalled how excited he had been just before the birth, that finally he would have a chance to really see his children grow, the chance he had missed with Harry. Now all he could feel was anxiety and sorrow and the ever-present fear that he would fail this child as he had her twin. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the infant, his jaw clenched and his eyes burning.

Sarai returned and sensed immediately that something was off. "Sev? You don't have to be so stiff, relax. She won't break, trust me!"

Her husband looked up at her. "Maybe you'd better hold her, Sarai. I'm still tired, and she seems to want you."

Victoria had begun to squirm and whine, sensing that the big stranger holding her wasn't happy.

Sarai gently lifted Victoria from his arms. "You just need time to get used to each other, that's all. The children have given her several nicknames already. Draco calls her little big mouth, because he says she has a scream worse than a thousand banshees for something so small. And Harry and Nesmay call her Toria, because Victoria sounds too formal for her. I think that's sweet, don't you?"

"Yes. They've done a good job taking care of her." _Much better than I would have,_ he thought, sneering at himself. Then he deliberately closed his eyes, because the less time he spent with the baby, the easier it would be for him to pretend he didn't care.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Over the course of the next few days, Harry noticed that Severus hardly ever held the baby or even spent much time with her beyond the few minutes a day needed to occasionally feed and change her. Most of the time he was in his lab, brewing drafts for the next term, and the rest of the time he was absent from the manor, either harvesting herbs or visiting Alexander's grave. There was now an inscription upon the headstone, engraved there by magic.

It read: _Alexander Severus Snape, August 6th, 1996. Beloved son and twin; gone to dwell in Paradise. _A pair of angel wings was delicately etched above the name.

Sarai sometimes joined him at the site, though more often than not she was too busy with Victoria to have time or energy to mourn her loss. She threw herself into caring for her daughter, and that in turn helped her through her grief. She had always found that dwelling upon sorrow helped nothing, and so she did her best to not focus on it. She knew if she allowed herself, she would slip back into that sleeping grief-stricken state, and that she could not afford. As Aislinn had reminded her, she had a family who needed her, and she must live for them.

Severus, however, withdrew into a brooding silence, and refused to even speak to her about what was bothering him. Like a wounded animal, he went off to hide in his lab or the cemetery, and he snapped and snarled at any who came near. Draco and Nesmay avoided him, after enduring the sharp lash of his temper. Only Harry sought him out, enduring the glares and snide remarks while assisting him with potions.

Finally, one afternoon, a week and a half after Victoria's birth, Harry stomped out of the lab in a rotten mood. "I'm going flying," he growled, his eyes shooting sparks as he half-slammed the door shut behind him.

"Harry, try and be a bit quieter, your sister's sleeping," Sarai scolded mildly. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing!" her son snapped, then he shook his head. "Sorry, it's just . . . Dad's being impossible. He's like obsessed with making all the drafts perfectly and I didn't chop up the feverfew fine enough and he just went off on me and . . . I left. Let him brew his own bloody solutions!"

Sarai gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, it's not really you he's angry at. It's himself."

"Yeah, well, I wish he'd quit taking it out on me." Harry said indignantly. Then he Summoned his Firebolt and went to fly, letting off steam before he said something he'd regret.

Her mouth tightening, Sarai went into the lab to speak with her grouchy husband.

She found him dicing and stirring with a vengeance, and waited until he had finished adding and stirring the cauldrons before she attempted to talk to him. "Severus, we need to talk. _Now_."

He barely looked up. "Later. I'm busy," he said curtly.

"Not right now you aren't. Your solutions are steeping," she answered back. "It has to stop, Sev."

"What does?" he asked wearily. "My brewing potions for school? It's part of my job, sorry if it inconveniences you," he said bitingly.

"No, I mean your attitude with your children," she returned frostily. "I know you're hurting, but you shouldn't take it out on them. Or me."

Exasperated, he lifted his head. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked weary to the bone. "I'm trying not to, damn it all! Why do you think I'm staying out of everyone's way? I just need to be left alone, can't you see that? Or must I spell it out for you?"

"Left alone to do what, Sev? Brew till you drop? Beat yourself up with guilt until you snap? Hurting yourself won't bring him back. You need to let him go." She made as if to hug him, but he drew away.

"You don't understand. I can't forget what happened. He died in my arms, Sarai!"

"Severus, he was dead before you tried to revive him," Sarai said gently. "Auriane told me so. Sev, it does no good for you to dwell on the past. I know you miss him. So do I. But it's not your fault he died."

"No?" he spun on her, his eyes blazing. "All of my bloody magic and I couldn't save one little child! My own son! What good am I then?"

"Of no good to anyone like this," she retorted. "Behaving like a curmudgeon to your family won't change anything, Severus Snape. I carried him for eight months, do you think my loss is any less than yours? All of us are grieving over what happened. Sev, don't shut yourself away. Let me help you."

He shook his head stubbornly. "You can't."

"You damn stubborn jackass!" she swore at him, then she left him alone as he'd wished.

Dinner that night was a rather silent affair, no one felt much like talking, and the only ones who ate anything were Draco and Nesmay. Harry felt the tension between Sarai and Severus like a sharp blade beneath his ribs, and as a result barely touched his dinner.

He went to bed after playing a few hands of Dragons Wild with his siblings, but sleep was a long time coming.

Severus brewed late into the night, assuaging his grief with exhaustion, and when he came to bed, Sarai was sleeping. He quickly undressed and leaned over to kiss his wife gently on the lips. She did not wake and he curled up beside her. He tossed and turned before finally falling asleep.

He woke once, and saw Sarai feeding Victoria. He quickly shut his eyes and waited until she had put the baby back to sleep in the cradle, which was now next to their bed. As she snuggled next to him, he opened his eyes and murmured a sincere apology for his snarky attitude. "You were right. It's myself I'm angry at. Forgive me?"

She hugged him. "Of course, beloved. But you need to forgive yourself. There really was nothing you could have done. All we can do is accept it and go on. We still have Harry, Draco, Nesmay, and Victoria, Sev. Don't shut them out. They love you and need you for their father."

He muttered something that sounded like "I'm no good for them", and she smacked him on the back of the head and hissed, "Go to sleep, you boneheaded fool of a sorcerer! Maybe you'll make more sense in the morning when your mind's not clouded with sleep. I love you."

He drifted off listening to her breathe, but when he woke the same knot of guilt and grief was still lodged within his heart.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Harry helped Draco and Nesmay hang the laundry to dry on the clothesline outside, still puzzled and anxious over his father's attitude towards Victoria. He wondered why he alone was bothered by it. Maybe he was making something out of nothing? "Draco, have you noticed anything . . . strange about the way Dad acts around Victoria?"

"What do you mean? He's been in a rotten mood lately, but then again, having your son just die is enough to put anybody in a rotten mood." Draco answered, hanging up a pair of socks.

"No, it's not just that. Have you noticed that he doesn't seem to want to be around the baby? He hardly ever holds her or anything." Harry clarified. "It's almost as though . . . he doesn't like her."

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry!" Draco scoffed. "Of course he likes her—she's his daughter. He's probably just uncomfortable around her, like I was. I mean, Dad's not really the hug and kiss babies type, like Dumbledore."

Nesmay nodded in agreement, clipping a shirt to the line. "I know plenty of fae men at court who turned white and ran away when a nanny asked if they wanted to hold their baby. They were afraid they would drop it or it would puke all over them. My Uncle Oberon used to say he only wanted to know his son when he was past that stage and could learn how to talk and hold a sword."

Harry snorted. "I won't tell you what I think of your uncle, Nesmay, since I'm sure you can guess. But Dad's not like that. I threw up all over him repeatedly last summer when I had anxiety attacks and he never acted all disgusted or anything. This is . . . I don't know . . . it's almost like he's avoiding her."

"Maybe seeing her reminds him of losing Alexander," Nesmay remarked. "My aunt Morgana told me that for awhile she cried whenever she saw me because I reminded her of my mother."

"I guess so," Harry sighed. Still, there was something else that was bothering his father, he was almost certain of it. It couldn't just be grief that kept him away from his daughter, because Sarai was grieving too and yet she seemed to draw comfort from holding Victoria.

"Give it a rest, Harry. Dad will come around. He just needs time," Draco said.

Harry said nothing, but resolved to ask Sarai about it once he was done here. Severus' apathy frightened him on a deep inner level, for it reminded him of how Petunia and Vernon used to ignore him or pretend he didn't exist. He knew all too well how much that hurt and he never wanted that to happen to his small sister. _Sarai will know what's wrong. She knows my dad better than anyone, except my mum._

He found Sarai in the kitchen, making lunch. Nesmay and Draco were playing with Cafall, who incidentally adored the baby. The big hound grew very upset when she cried and laid beside her cradle at night, guarding her. But right then, he was enjoying the fine summer weather and tracking a hidden decoy Draco had hidden in the woods for him, with Nesmay accompanying him as his hunt partner.

Harry made sure Severus was nowhere near when he broached the matter to his stepmother. "I just don't understand why Dad would act like that around Toria. I mean, how can he _not_ love her? She's adorable and she's his baby. The minute I looked at her I just wanted to hold her and protect her."

"Harry, your father was the same way when he held her the first time. I know, I saw. But then came the stillbirth and everything changed. Your dad still loves Victoria, Harry. Never doubt it. But right now he's feeling very insecure and he's allowing that to affect the way he looks at things."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean he blames himself for not being able to save Alexander. He feels guilty that he couldn't revive him, even though that's something that was in the hands of the Creator. He's also scared to death that something might happen to Victoria and he'll lose another whom he cares for. He was the same after he lost Lily."

"He was? He told you that?"

"He didn't need to, Harry. I was there, both when he found out that your mother had married James Potter and afterwards when he learned your mother had been killed by Voldemort. And no, he didn't confide in me in the beginning, only after he had battered himself into shreds in a _kin-sa-dor_ session and then he finally shared his broken heart with me. Back then I was just his mentor, but he trusted me."

Harry bit his lip. "There's something I never understood, Sarai. If my dad found out about my mum's marriage to James Potter, why didn't he ever go after her? Show her that he was still alive and all? Why let her stay with a man he hated?"

"I asked him that once. He told me that it was better if he remained dead to her. That she was probably happier with Potter and he could only give her an empty bed and black mourning clothes with his occupation. Again, his insecurity was his undoing. I think he felt he didn't deserve your mother. And he was also hurt and betrayed by her. She barely waited three months before she agreed to marry Potter. Of course, none of us knew Lily's real reason for marrying in haste. If your father had even suspected she was carrying his child, he would have moved heaven and earth to bring you both back. But as it was . . .It took him a long time to get over his feelings of inadequacy, Harry, and trust me. Even longer before he was able to allow himself to feel love and give his heart to me. But I waited, because he was worth waiting for and I loved him. I still do."

"Guess you'd have to in order to put up with him," Harry teased.

Sarai laughed. "If you love someone, Harry, you learn to live with their flaws. He does it with me. There's a rare few men who'd agree to put their boots beneath a warrior woman's bed. Most men find me a threat to their . . .uh . . . pride and manhood. But not your father. That's one reason why he's the only one for me." Sarai sat down and drank a glass of merlinna juice along with her stepson. "Right now though . . . he's fighting every instinct in him that's urging him to give his heart to Victoria."

"In Merlin's name, why?"

"Because he's afraid he'll lose her. Like he lost Alex and Lily. He thinks if he locks away his heart, he won't get hurt. He's wrong. All he's really hurting is himself, by denying himself the pleasure of his daughter. A part of him knows that. But there's another part of him that denies it, and that's the part that struggles with him now. He wants to reach out to her, but at the same time he's afraid he'll fail her. It's a dreadful thing, to be at war with yourself like that."

"That's why he's been such a . . pain-in-the-arse?"

"Yes. I've told him as much. But he's stubborn, like a mule. He listened, but hasn't taken my advice yet."

"But it's not good for him or us to be acting like this. Toria needs to know her dad."

"And you three also need him back." Sarai acknowledged. "So, Mr. Snape, what shall we do about it?" There was a challenging gleam in her eyes now.

Harry smiled then bent to whisper something in her ear.

"I see. That may work. But now we have to figure out the right time . . ."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Harry wasn't sure who he felt sorry for more—Toria, because she didn't know Severus as her father the way he did, or his dad, for tearing himself apart over things that couldn't be changed and might never happen. But he watched and waited all of that day and the next for a chance to put the plan he and Sarai had concocted into action. Finally, that Friday afternoon, he saw his opportunity.

Draco was taking a nap and Nesmay and Sarai were playing some odd fae boardgame called _fidearch_, which was sort of like chess and checkers combined, using round polished stones for counters. The object was to remove or steal all your opponent's counters and take over her kingdom. It was a war and strategy game, and both half-fae women were playing intently.

Toria was in her bassinet, dozing, and Harry quickly picked her up, holding her wrapped in her soft pink blanket against his chest. She nestled right against his shoulder and made him smile. _Dad's going to have to hex all the boys arms off when you're old enough to date, kid. That's if Draco and I don't turn them into toe jam first._ _All right, the coast is clear, time to find Dad. I think he went outside and I can guess where he'll end up._

_:Why guess when I can tell you, Harry?:_ sent Smidgen. The shimmerling popped into view, perching on his shoulder.

_Would you mind checking and seeing if Dad's at the cemetery? I really need to talk to him._

_:Not at all, Harry. Wait right here.:_ Smidgen blinked away.

About five seconds later she reappeared, purring. _:You were correct, Severus is at the cemetery. Poor man, he is so distressed!:_

"I know. But hopefully I can make him remember that there's still something here to be happy about," his son said thoughtfully. "Thanks, Smidgen."

_:Good luck, Harry!:_ she sent, then she settled on the sofa back and began to groom her lush black fur.

Harry headed outside, Victoria held close. He knew the way to the cemetery, he had been back and forth often to place flowers upon the small grave and look at the other graves of his ancestors. Some of the gravestones were very ornate, others were simple, depending upon the person who was buried beneath it. Sev Prince's headstone bore a handsome harp upon it and the inscription: _He travelled far and wide, but his heart always belonged at home, may he Guard well the gates._ Sev Prince had lived to over 300 years of age, and in a way, he lived still as the manor's Guardian. His wife and children were buried beside him, and so were his grandchildren.

He found Severus seated upon the ground in front of his son's tiny headstone, just staring off into the distance. His face seemed expressionless . . . until you looked into his dark eyes and saw the tempest raging there. A maelstrom of guilt, grief, and pain lived there, slowly sucking what remained of joy and happiness away.

Harry flinched upon seeing it. He had taken the long way around, coming upon Severus from the lefthand side, moving stealthily through the trees, his Invisibility Cloak thrown over him, halting a foot or so behind the grave. He crossed his fingers and prayed that this would work. Then he tossed his hood off and stood looking at his father, who stiffened in surprise, then flashed him an annoyed look.

"Harry, why are you here? I don't wish to be disturbed at the moment."

Harry drew in a breath before replying. "I know, Dad, and I'm sorry I'm intruding but . . . there's something I need to say."

Severus made an impatient gesture. "By all means, say it then. You shouldn't be bringing the baby out here, it's chilly today."

"I know. But she's warm enough, I'd never let her get sick," he said, his tone faintly accusing.

Severus scowled. "Just what are you implying, young man?"

Harry winced at the stern tone, but he had prepared himself for his father's anger. None of this was going to be easy to say, but it needed saying. For both of their sakes. "I'm implying that maybe you've forgotten the most important thing this baby needs, Dad. She needs a father."

Severus started to open his mouth, ready to give the impudent teen the rough edge of his tongue for his insolence, but Harry held up a hand.

"Wait, before you tell me off, just listen for a minute. All right?" When he had received his father's nod in return, he continued. "I know it's been hell for you these past two weeks, what with Alex dying and Sarai being so sick and all. I know that's why you let us take care of Victoria. At first I was kind of nervous, and Draco was even worse than I was, but once I really got used to her, I found that she wasn't all that hard to care for and even easier to love. All of us fell in love with her, Dad. Just like you did. But now you're pushing her away and I don't understand why. She's a little baby, and she deserves to grow up with a father who loves her and wants to be with her."

"Harry, right now I'm not fit company for anyone, but especially her—"

"You can be. But you're afraid of letting her get too close to you, just in case she dies," Harry interrupted. "But she won't, Dad. She's a fighter, she's got the Snape stubbornness in spades. Like you and me. You told me before she was born that you wanted to do all the things with her than you never had the chance to do with me. Are you going to give that up because you lost her twin? I'm really sorry I lost my brother, but Toria's still here, Dad. Don't make her pay because her twin's gone."

"I wasn't. You don't understand . . ."

"Maybe I don't understand what it's like to lose a child, but I _do_ understand what it's like to grow up with people who pretend you don't exist. And it really sucks, especially when you see your cousin getting all the attention and you sit there wondering what in hell you did wrong."

"I would _never_ treat one of my children the way your uncle treated you!" Severus snapped, incensed.

"But you _are_, Dad! And you don't even realize it because you're too busy tearing yourself apart over something that can't be changed," Harry said, blinking hard. "Alex is dead and that's really horrible. But look at what you've still got. You've got a beautiful baby girl here that needs you just as much as I ever did. Here's your chance to give her what you couldn't give me." Abruptly, he thrust the baby into Severus' lap. To his relief, his father instinctively caught her and held her. "Don't throw away the best gift ever."

Harry stood and quickly pulled on his cloak, making his way back across the cemetery before Severus could recover from the shock. He heard his father call his name twice, but he ignored it. He wasn't going to take Victoria back. If his father wanted to bring her back in the house, he could do it himself. He just hoped he had done the right thing.

Severus just sat and stared down at the infant in his lap, which he held so carefully. A part of him wanted to demand that Harry come and take her away, but another part, the part he had been suppressing so hard, whispered that it was all right, the baby belonged here with him. Victoria waved her small fists and made odd little noises, reminding him of a hungry piglet.

"Your brother had some bloody nerve!" he muttered crossly. "Lecturing me like that! Who does he think he is? He forgets, _I'm_ the father around here."

The baby cooed up at him in agreement.

"Well, at least _you_ know better than to argue with me, right?"

He gazed into his daughter's bright eyes, eyes that reminded him of two women who had loved him unconditionally, eyes that were innocent and knowing, and suddenly feelings of awe, tenderness, and love washed over him in a wave, drenching him with fierce clarity and inescapable truth. It smothered all the doubts and the fears he had harbored, sweeping them away beneath its inexorable tide, shattering them into bits and pieces. Gone were the anxiety and dread that he might fail this child as he had her twin, there was no room in heart for such things when he was consumed with overwhelming love for the new life in his arms.

Shame pricked him sharply for an instant, but it too was eclipsed by the awe he felt as the miracle he had created smiled up at him. "Perfect," he whispered. Sudden tears gathered in his eyes and ran slowly down his cheeks. "You are perfect. I was a fool and worse to ever try and deny you. My little Victoria. My perfect precious gift." He bent to brush his lips across her forehead.

Her skin was petal-soft, like rosebuds just starting to bloom.

Harry had been right, he admitted ruefully. She was so innocent, so beautiful, so . . . . intent on yanking his hair out.

"Ow! That hurt!" he cried, the sudden sharp tug jerking him out of his reverie.

His eyes watered, and he gently pried her tiny fingers from his hair. She squalled angrily. He started to laugh, very softly. "Mustn't pull Daddy's hair, little big mouth. You can't eat it, you'll choke." His daughter continued to bawl. "Hush. You have my temper all right, may Merlin help me." He reached up and secured his hair in a tail with a rawhide hair tie. Then he placed the baby on his shoulder and patted her back. "There now, just because I won't let you stuff my hair down your throat is no reason to throw a tantrum, silly girl."

The baby continued to wail.

Thinking fast, Severus plucked a flower from his son's grave and Transfigured it into a soft rag doll. "Here, say hello to Lady Snapdragon, who can beat ten Unseelie with one hand tied behind her back. She'll protect you from all those monsters under your bed. Look, she's smiling at you, Toria sweetling!" He thrust the rag doll, which had a face that was both sweet and almost severe, with bright orange hair and a dress to match, at his infant daughter.

Toria was fascinated by the bright color and soft texture and grabbed Lady Snapdragon and stuffed her arm in her mouth, her tears drying instantly now that she had something new to focus on.

Severus smiled and held his daughter close. _I'll need to thank Harry for being brave enough to tell me when I was making an ass out of myself. Sarai too. The manor chose well, for my son is wiser than I am and far more perceptive. _He gently touched the dark fuzz atop Toria's head, ignoring stoically the thread of drool running down her cheek onto his shirt. "Someday, when you're older, my girl, I'll bring you here and tell you about your twin, who's in Paradise with Mama's cousin Aislinn. But right now you have to get to know your daddy all over again." He lifted the baby and held her above his head, giving her a special smile. "I love you, Toria. And I promise I'll never give you reason to doubt it."

His daughter looked him in the eye, gurgled loudly, and bonked him in the nose with her rag doll.

"Merlin's pants, young lady! Beating up your father is not allowed." Severus exclaimed, waving a finger in front of her nose.

Toria squealed with laughter, or at least that was what it sounded like to her besotted father, who abandoned all of his natural reserve and discipline to snicker at his baby girl, the precious gift he had almost given up, until one determined teenage boy reminded him to count his blessings.

**So, what did you think of Harry and Sarai's solution? **

**I have a few more questions for you.**

**Should Sev become the new DADA teacher next term, or should it be someone else, like Lupin, Sirius, or even Sarai?**

**And, if Nesmay ever attended Hogwarts, which House do you think she belonged in? **


	75. Changes

**75**

**Changes**

After Harry's pointed reminder to Severus about cherishing his daughter, the Potions Master did a complete about face, and started spending much of his time with his baby girl. He rocked her, cuddled her, and fed her. He created better lotions and salves for her tender skin, assisted by Harry and Draco. He would stand over her cradle for long moments, just watching her sleep, like a dark guardian angel. He spent hours closeted in the library, reading books about baby-proofing a home, child care, and discussed with Sev Prince the differences between raising a girl and raising boys.

_I always felt better prepared when raising my sons, because I knew what to expect, how their minds worked," Sev Prince said candidly. "My girls were a mystery to me from the moment they started talking. With boys, it's different. They make your heart fierce with pride, and while you worry about them getting hurt, it's not the same. With my girls, my heart melted, and the mere thought of them in danger turned me into a raging lunatic. Lydia's first serious suitor almost became a new wall hanging when I caught him stealing a kiss before riding away one afternoon. I contemplated carrying a horse whip to discourage randy young boys when Aurielle came of age, she was a beauty and I felt as if every man's eye was upon her, trying to figure out the best way to compromise her before an hour went by. My wife threatened to lock me in the basement when a suitor came to call._

Severus shuddered. "Please, I don't even want to think about when she's old enough to notice boys. Or boys to notice her. Frankly, I doubt if any boy will ever be good enough for her, and the boy would have to get past not just me and Sarai, but Harry, Draco, and Nesmay as well."

Sev Prince chuckled. _I pity the poor bastard! She might as well be surrounded by an army. Whoever tries to get her attention had better be of the stuff legends are made from, because otherwise he might as well start planning his funeral._

Later on that night, as Severus was anointing little Victoria with some baby balm that prevented chafing and was made with lanolin as well as magical bellflowers ground to a fine powder, while Sarai observed indulgently from the rocker in the nursery, he said, "It seems so long ago that I couldn't bear to look upon her, and now . . . now I wake up in the middle of the night thinking I hear her cry and just stand over the cradle watching her sleep." His long fingers gently rubbed the ointment all over his baby's delicate skin. Victoria ate up the attention, waving her small arms and legs and making purring and cooing noises.

"You were grieving, Sev. Grief does strange things to a man—or a woman," Sarai said with a rueful smile. "You just needed to be reminded that there was still a life waiting for you back at home."

"Well, thank God for Harry." Severus said, wiping his hands upon a soft cloth before dressing his daughter. "I was frozen inside, numb like an icicle in the dead of winter, like I was when Lily died. But now . . .now when I look at her, it's like it was spring inside my heart, all the ice has melted and warmth and love have been reborn." He smiled down at Victoria and caressed her cheek with a finger. "I can't even imagine my life without her in it."

"Nor can any of us," Sarai said knowingly.

Severus quickly did up the lavender all-in-one, which had cute embroidered sheep all over it, and the saying _1,2,3 count sheep, now go to sleep_ winding in and out of the sheep. He thought back to that day, and how, upon his return to the house, he had found Harry sitting and staring at a book in the den, looking very nervous. He had heaved a sigh of relief when he caught sight of them and said, "Dad! You're back. You're not . . . mad at me or anything for what I said, are you?"

Severus had shifted his now sleeping offspring to his shoulder before replying, "No, though I was at first. No parent likes to be lectured by their child, even if the lecture was necessary."

"I'm sorry, but I just couldn't let you keep on going the way you were, Dad."

"I know that, Harry. You were right to do as you did. I was hurting myself more than anyone. Your mother would have been the first one to tell you that. Lily always said my Achilles heel was my unwavering self-control. She used to say I had my emotions wrapped up so tight it was a miracle I didn't explode. She would tell me that it was all right for me to lose control every once in a while, otherwise one day I'd crack from holding everything inside. But I'd been conditioned to suppress my emotions by the time I was six, because of my father. He hated to see boys crying, and would give me the back of his hand if he saw so much as a tear. It was also a defense mechanism, since I detested my father for his loss of control, I had vowed to never become what he was—an angry, greedy, dissatisfied man who blamed all his misfortunes upon others, and never hesitated to unleash his temper on his son and wife. That's why I keep such a tight rein on my emotions, because of him and the work I did as an undercover agent, which required me to not react in any way to the atrocities I was witness to. I'm grateful, Harry, that you were brave enough to snap me out of it."

"I'm sorry I was so . . . mean."

Severus snorted in amusement. "Harry, sometime being very blunt is the only way to get through to someone who's drowning in their own grief. Rather like a swift punch to the jaw."

Harry had given him a rather mischievous look and said cheekily, "I hope you've learned your lesson, Dad."

Severus had given him a long look and said, "Watch it, Phoenix." Then he clapped his son on the shoulder and told him he would make a very good father someday.

Shaking his head, Severus returned from his stroll down memory lane, and picked up his wide-awake daughter and put her on his shoulder, where she looked about and then stuck her fist in her mouth. He began to walk about the room with her, patting her back, while discussing his new class schedule with Sarai.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

A few days later, Draco and Harry received their Hogwarts letters and lists. Inside each of their envelopes was a prefect's pin, red with a gold P for Harry and green with a silver P for Draco. Both boys were speechless for about twelve seconds.

"Dad, did you know about this?" asked Draco, his gray eyes shining.

Severus nodded. "I knew about yours, because I recommended you. Along with Blaise Zabini."

"What about me?" Harry wanted to know.

"I was not certain, because Minerva has the final selection over her Gryffindors as I do my snakes. But I thought if anyone deserved to be a prefect besides Miss Granger, it would be you, Harry." Severus told him sincerely. "I am proud of both of you. It would seem to be a family tradition, considering I was also a prefect at school. See that you set a good example for your peers next term."

"We will, Dad." Draco said. "Right, Phoenix?" He gave Harry a sharp look.

"Yes. Quite looking at me like that, Dragon."

"Like what?"

"Like you're pure as snow and I'm the one in trouble all the time."

"Can I help it if it's true?"

Harry scowled. "If I remember correctly, it was _you_ who ended up starting the brawl in _The Three Broomsticks_."

"Me? It was Krum's fault! And _you_ were the one that wouldn't leave off and got us arrested!"

"Boys! Enough!" Severus cut in before the discussion could escalate. "You were both at fault now stop pointing fingers. There's no point in quarreling over the past. Tomorrow the Headmaster will probably send me my class syllabus and then we shall go to Diagon Alley and get your school supplies. In the meantime, go over the supplies you have and let me know what you are running low on, and make sure your assignments are in order. They should be neat, legible, and complete."

The two groaned at the familiar litany. But after breakfast they both rose and did as their father had suggested. A prefect should always be prepared. Nesmay did the dishes while Sarai fed Victoria, who was now up to three ounces of formula and growing rapidly.

Athena and Frost arrived, each bearing letters for Draco and Harry. Both Hermione and Katie expressed their condolences about the family's loss of baby Alex, and they both offered to babysit little Victoria if needed. Hermione informed Draco that she too had been made a prefect and had already pinned the new insignia to her new school robes. Both girls were eager for the new term to begin and couldn't wait to see their boyfriends.

A letter also arrived from Ron via Zephyr, and in it all the Weasleys expressed their deepest sympathies and hoped that the new baby was thriving. Mrs. Weasley sent along a beautiful angel food cake topped with strawberries and whipped cream and chocolate sauce and Ron said he hoped that Harry was having fun with his baby sister and if he ever needed any advice on how to deal with a bratty sibling to just ask.

The final piece of mail came from Mischief, Sirius' owl.

_Dear Severus, Sarai, Harry, and Draco,_

_Petunia insisted I write instead of Floo because it would be easier to express myself through a letter. I don't know if she's right because this was damn awkward to write. I can't count how many drafts I tore up and threw in the fireplace before I finally decided this was the best one. _

_Harry told me about your loss and I cannot imagine the pain and sorrow you must all be feeling. When I read that letter, I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. Tuney started crying, and grew very emotional. She wanted to come over for a visit, to pay her respects, but I said we needed to be invited and maybe you weren't up to receiving visitors just yet. Especially given what happened last time._

_Severus, I know we haven't seen eye to eye on a lot of things, but I will say that you have more courage than any Gryffindor, to endure the loss of a child. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, and I wish there was something that I could say or do to ease your pain. Just saying "I'm sorry" seems so trite, but it's true. I hope that in time your loss eases. _

_Tuney, Dudley, and I would like to pay our respects, and meet your wife and daughter, who I hope is doing well. If you wouldn't mind having us, we'd like to come tomorrow. If not, I understand. Tell Harry I said hi, and will see him at school._

_Sirius_

_PS: Remus would like to come also, there's something he needs to discuss with you._

Severus turned to Sarai. "Well, what do you think? Are you up to a visit from my in-laws, beloved? Or would you prefer to wait?"

Sarai eased the bottle away from Victoria and began to try and burp her. Her daughter wailed indignantly. "I think it best if I met them here, at our home. It's polite and proper of them to make the effort to see us, and it's time I met the rest of the family on this side. Write Sirius back, Sev, and tell him all are welcome."

"If you're sure?"

Before Sarai could answer, Victoria let out a loud belch.

"There's your answer," the warrior chuckled, giving the bottle back to her ravenous child.

Severus informed the rest of the children of Sirius' visit over dinner that night. Draco looked less than enthused, but said he wouldn't tease Dudley or make any jokes about snakebite. At Nesmay's puzzled look, he explained how Dudley had attempted to steal one of the runespoor eggs last time he had visited and gotten bitten for his trouble.

"Harry, you'd best tell the runespoors to go hide," she suggested. "Or I can."

"I'm sure Dudley won't go near them," Severus said. "All of you are to be on your best behavior."

They all agreed they would be, though Nesmay thought Dudley sounded like Malchiar and could use taking down a peg or two. But she wouldn't prank him, because she had given her word to Severus and Sarai to behave, and a guest, even an unlikeable one, was to be treated decently according to fae laws of hospitality.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The Blacks and Lupin arrived on Saturday around midmorning, and Harry accompanied Severus out beyond the Endless Mist to meet them. Severus had informed Harry that it would be good practice for him to part the mist for their guests and unlock the manor gates.

Harry greeted his relatives and Lupin, then he turned and concentrated hard, bringing his arms up above his head, then down in a broad sweeping gesture while ordering the mist, "Part for me!" in Latin.

The mist shifted, hissed, and parted, revealing the large stone gates which were locked until Harry set his Amulet of Inheritance into the niche and it opened.

"Nicely done," Severus said approvingly as he followed Harry onto the grounds.

Harry tucked his wand away and fought to keep from yelping like an excited child.

"Welcome to Prince Manor," said Severus simply. He led the way up to the house.

Once everyone was introduced to Sarai and Nesmay, the two parents led the way to the cemetery and the tiny headstone.

Sirius knelt in the grass and conjured some flowers in a large urn to place beside the headstone, then bowed his head and whispered, "May Merlin keep you company in the lands of the undying, beyond the Veil, Alexander Snape."

Petunia blotted her eyes with a handkerchief and whispered, "God be with you and may you know peace everlasting in the arms of an angel, little one." She removed a small plaster statuette of a cherub and placed it on the opposite side of the headstone.

Remus added a small flowering shrub.

For a few moments, all stood solemnly, their faces pinched with sorrow and loss.

Petunia touched Sarai's shoulder lightly, and murmured, "There is no remedy for the loss of a child, my mother shared the same grief as you. She lost a baby boy after she had Lily and I don't think she ever really recovered from it. His name was Will. But I wish you every joy with your daughter. She will be a great comfort for you."

"Thank you, Petunia. You're very kind." Sarai said.

Petunia smiled sadly. "You may not think so once you've heard the news I bear. I am with child, though it's too early to tell whether or not it's a boy or girl." She bit her lip nervously. "Forgive me, that's probably the last thing you want to hear after suffering so."

But the half-fae warrior shook her head. "Not so. Life and death are opposite sides of the same coin. I am happy that you will have a child. Perhaps you will be lucky and have a girl cousin for Toria to play with. And I have always wanted to be an aunt."

"Congratulations, Sirius," Severus remarked, eyeing the Animagus. "Are you ready to be a father?"

"Hell, no!" the other shook his head. "But by the time the kid's born, I'd better be. I don't really have a choice."

"I can lend you some parenting books to get you started."

"Thanks, Severus. I think I'm going to need them."

"What you'll need most is stamina and an ability to go for days without sleep. As well as the patience to deal with a screeching demon for weeks on end."

"Moony, as the kid's godfather, I'm going to have you sleep over nights," Sirius commented.

Lupin snickered. "Why, Paddy? Afraid you'll lose your beauty sleep?"

"No, I'm afraid I might drop the kid on his head because I'm half-asleep. I'm not as young as I used to be."

Harry cast a glance at Dudley. "So, are you glad to finally have a little brother or sister?"

"I guess so. It'll be weird though, seeing Mum with a baby."

"You know what you have to learn to do now, Dud?" Harry began.

"What? And don't you dare tell me I have to change a nappy."

"Dud, you have to learn to share," Harry said, biting his lip hard to keep from exploding in laughter.

Dudley was scarlet and looked as if he wanted to punch Harry out."Ah, shut it, Harry!"

Harry gave him a Snape smirk.

"I know how to share," Dudley pressed on.

"Sure you do, Dud. You shared all your broken toys and your bullying ways with me."

"That was then. I . . .I didn't know any better. But this time's different, because I want it to be. Do you like your baby sister?"

"Like her? Dudley, I love her. Wait till you see her. She looks very . . . ethereal."

"Like a fae princess," put in Nesmay.

"But she eats like a pig," Draco remarked.

All of the children laughed at his blunt assessment.

"When will your baby be born, Petunia?" Sarai asked, walking beside her.

"I think . . . it was conceived soon after we visited the manor, so perhaps sometime in March. I have my first appointment with my doctor next week, then I'll know for sure."

"May fortune and fate smile upon you."

They continued walking across the lawn, and the song of a meadowlark rose sweet and true in the air, serenading the family as they made their way back to the house, where a simple lunch of salad and sandwiches awaited them upon the kitchen table.

Victoria was still asleep, so they all ate lunch and then Remus asked Severus and Sarai if they had received a letter from the Headmaster.

"Only the usual one, Lupin," Severus said, somewhat stiffly, for he still bore reservations where the werewolf was concerned. "It concerned my curriculum and syllabus for the year." But he kept those negative feelings under wraps, and besides, he was on his home ground here, and stronger than either of the former Marauders.

"As a matter of fact, I did." The warrior replied, pulling an envelope from her pocket. "An owl arrived just before you did, and I put this in my pocket to read later." She quickly slit it open with a knife and began to read. "He expresses his condolences over my loss and then he . . ." she frowned, perplexed. "He wishes to know if I would like to be the next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, along with you, Remus." She looked up at the werewolf curiously. "I don't understand. Why would he ask me to teach? I'm a half-fae former Blade, and though I do have magic, it's not like a mortal wizard's at all."

"Perhaps that's why," Remus said. "I also got a letter and in it he asked if I wished to resume my former post, I used to teach Defense over a year ago. But he said that even with the Wolfsbane I might wish to have an assistant to cover my classes every month and he wishes the instruction to be of both an academic and practical nature. I'm sure that's where you come in, Sarai."

"Hmm. Do you think he means for me to teach them the sword? Or elements of dueling?"

"I'd say so. And you've more experience in that sort of thing than I do. But I can handle the academic and theoretical side, as well as the spellcasting." Remus said.

Sarai looked thoughtful. "What do you think, Sev?"

"I think you ought to do as you feel best, Sarai. There's no doubt you're a competent instructor, having trained me and the boys to defend ourselves with and without magic. Dumbledore knows that."

"I think you should do it, Mum," Draco urged.

"Me too," added Harry.

"I could watch the baby when you have class," Nesmay offered.

"That's what I'm worried about. I don't want to be away from Victoria for very long. I'm afraid I might miss something," Sarai admitted.

"I can understand that," Remus said. "I could teach the beginning of the year, and you could substitute in for me each month for a week and maybe have a class on the weekends."

"Like the Dueling Club!" exclaimed Harry. "Draco and I started it up again last year, and you could help continue it, Sarai."

"That would be great," agreed Draco enthusiastically.

"You _have_ to do it, Sarai!" Nesmay pleaded. "Think about what all those mortal kids could learn from you. And then you wouldn't have to be apart from Severus and the boys for most of the year."

"She's right," Severus persuaded. "We could all be at Hogwarts as a family, and then I wouldn't miss any of Victoria's milestones either."

"And you could teach more during the second half of the year, because your daughter would be older and more independent." Lupin added.

"True. I will think on it and then send back a reply." Sarai decided.

"I have some other news to share," Sirius announced. "Dumbledore has, don't ask me how, finally persuaded Binns to retire. He's going Beyond the Veil at last and that leaves the History of Magic position to fill. Dumbledore asked me if I would mind taking it."

Severus nearly fell over. "You . . . a professor, Black? Merlin save us all!"

His boys, however, let out whoops of glee. "No more Binns? It's a miracle!"

"Come on, Snape, I'm not that bad."

"I thought you wished to return to the Aurors."

"Well, I did. Until I found out Tuney was expecting. Then I started to re-think my career choice. Being an Auror's a job for the young and single, Severus. It's tough on anyone who wants a family and kids, because you're often away and in danger. I don't want my kid to grow up never knowing his father, or Dudley either. And I don't want a desk job at the Ministry either, too many political currents, and I don't do well with licking the arses of my superiors."

"Unless you're in dog form," Severus said slyly.

It took Sirius and Remus a moment to get Snape's wickedly dry wit, then Remus began roaring with laughter. After a moment, Sirius joined him.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? It's a dog thing." Sirius shrugged. "Teaching is better. It's stable and won't leave me facing down a wand every other week. Dumbledore pretty much told me to go and revise the old curriculum and make my own, so that's what I'm going to do. Tuney can help, she used to teach primary school before she had Dudley."

"You did?" both Dudley and Harry asked at the same time. Neither of them had ever known that.

"Yes. I enjoyed it too, but once I was expecting, Vernon wanted me to stay home, and after you were born, Dudley, I wasn't up to teaching and trying to raise a baby at the same time, Vernon refused to hire a nanny, said a woman's place was in the home and that was that. But I haven't forgotten all I learnt back then."

Severus scowled. Two former Marauders at Hogwarts again. He sighed. This would be a year of changes indeed. He wasn't sure he liked all of them, but there was little he could do, short of resigning, and the fact was that he enjoyed teaching his more mature and dedicated students. So long as Sarai and the children were there, he could endure anything—even two Marauders on staff.

"You had better learn how to discipline, Black. Otherwise your classroom will be chaos and no one will learn anything."

"I know, I know, Mr. Detention-Every-Day," Sirius said. "Now I just have to figure out how to make History of Magic interesting and not drop-dead boring and I'll be set."

Before Severus could interject any more pithy comments, Victoria woke up and began howling. The Potions Master sprang to his feet as if he had been prodded with a poker and hurried down to the nursery to get his daughter.

He found Smidgen hovering over the cradle, trying to get the baby to stop crying by making her one wing shimmer in the sunlight, and she was purring. Victoria was gasping and her sobs had begun to quiet as she tried to grab the black shimmerling, her eyes wide and small hands reaching for the elusive feline.

"Hello, Smidgen. Thank you for keeping her occupied." Severus greeted the fae cat.

_:It was no problem, Sev. But I think she's hungry and wet also.:_ With that, Smidgen blinked away to sit atop the dresser and groom her fur.

Severus picked up Victoria, asking softly, "Are you hungry, sweetling?" The baby screwed her face into a grimace. "No, don't cry. Just be patient," he ordered, quickly changing her and then conjuring a bottle of formula. He heated it with a spell and fed her some of it, enough so she was in a better mood when he brought her to meet her relatives and Lupin.

All the adults made a fuss when he showed her off to them.

"She's got your hair, Severus," observed Sirius, gently tickling the baby under the chin.

"But Sarai's eyes," Petunia remarked, gazing at the little mite with longing. "She's beautiful."

"Would you like to hold her?" Severus asked.

"May I?" She gently cradled Victoria in her arms. "Hello, precious. Aren't you the sweetest little thing? Such a pretty baby!" She smiled at her niece. "Oh, I do hope we have a girl! Dudley, come and say hello to your cousin."

Dudley came and peered over her shoulder at Victoria's round cheeked face and plump arms and tiny feet. "Wow! She sure is little."

"But she's getting bigger every day," Sarai said proudly.

"I bet she'll be a heartbreaker when she's older, like her mum," Sirius said.

"Flatterer," Sarai rolled her eyes at him.

"What? It's true." Sirius said.

"Black, are you ogling my wife?" Severus mock-growled.

"Ogling, no. Admiring, yes. I'm not stupid enough to try anything remotely like what you're thinking, Snape. I want to be around when my baby gets born, not sharing space with the worms in a pine box."

He tickled Victoria, making her giggle. "To think, this is going to be ours in a few months."

"What do you want, Sirius? Boy or girl?" Harry queried.

"Ah . . . that's a tough one. Part of me would like a son, then I could teach him all my old tricks and stuff. But a baby girl would be nice too, and then Tuney could have company. I guess it really doesn't matter, so long as my wife and baby are healthy."

"That's what's important," said Severus firmly, but his eyes were haunted.

Petunia then passed Victoria to Lupin, who held her as if she were a precious glass and crystal vial. Victoria looked up and burbled at him, making him smile.

While the adults were making goo goo eyes over the baby, the older children went to play outside by the lake and the orchard.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Later on that night, in the privacy of their bedroom, Sarai lay drowsing in Severus' arms, curled like a kitten in the hollow between his ribs and arm, her head on his chest. "Sev? You awake?"

"Yes," he muttered, though he sounded as if he had been dozing off after their recent activity between the sheets.

Victoria was sleeping soundly beside the bed, the cradle rocking to and fro with a charm Severus had cast.

"I've been thinking."

"About what?"

"About taking the Defense position. It would make sense. Like Remus said, it would allow me to be beside you, instead of by myself with just our daughters at the manor. After so many years of being separated because of our careers, I really don't want to endure nine months of you being away. Plus, while I do love raising Toria and Nesmay, I need something else to occupy me. I never was one to be a stay-at-home wife. Teaching will give me that challenge and we can all be a family together, like you said."

Severus turned his head and gave her a sleepy smile. "Good. Then you'll be sending Dumbledore a reply tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"That's fine. I'm glad you settled everything." He yawned. "Now, I'm going back to sleep, wildcat."

She chuckled wickedly. "Have I worn you out then, sorcerer mine?"

The only answer she got was a soft grunt and then Severus curled up about her and fell asleep.

A moment later, so did she.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Hogwarts_

_Sept. 1st, 1995:_

"Before we all dig into the wonderful feast that's been prepared for us, I have a few important announcements to make," Dumbledore stood once again at the podium in the Great Hall, arms lifted for silence. The hall quieted. "As I welcome you all back for a new year, I would like you to note the many changes that have occurred in our staff this year. It is my pleasure to introduce Professor Sirius Black, our new History of Magic teacher. Many of you know Mr. Black by reputation, he was once falsely accused of murder and put in Azkaban. However, he has since been cleared of all charges and is now an upstanding citizen."

Severus, sitting beside his wife and Professor McGonagall, snorted at that statement.

The room went wild as all the students erupted in cheers. They could hardly believe that Binn's reign as the most boring teacher and subject was finally ended.

When the tumult had died down somewhat, Dumbledore then cleared his throat again. "I would also like you to welcome back two familiar faces. Remus Lupin, and Lady Sarai Valinek, who is also Professor Snape's wife. They will be sharing the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher jointly. Please welcome Professors Lupin and Valinek to our staff. You will be seeing them repeatedly, as the curse over the Defense position is now removed."

Everyone stood and clapped for the new teachers, clearly they were very glad to not have to worry about clueless incompetents or megalomaniacs teaching Defense any longer.

When the applause finally died down, Dumbledore returned to his position at the staff table and tapped his wine glass with a spoon. "Let's eat!" was all he said, before digging into his broiled leg of mutton with new potatoes.

Nesmay was seated with Harry and the rest of his Gryffindor friends, fielding questions from curious students as to why she was not Sorted.

Finally, Ginny snapped, "For Merlin's sake, she's a fae princess and Professor Snape's ward, now quit badgering her and leave her be! There's no law that says you can't learn magic from your parents or guardian instead of going to school, now is there?"

That effectively halted the questions and enabled Nesmay to eat in peace.

Victoria was asleep in the infirmary, watched over by Madam Pomfrey, who was quite content to be one of the little girl's honorary aunts, along with Auntie Min, Auntie Mona, Aunt Sybill, Charity, Septima, Aurora, and the rest of the staff. In addition to the plethora of surrogate aunts and uncles, Albus insisted upon being her honorary grandfather, which almost caused Severus to choke to death on his salmon.

When he could speak again, he admonished the sly old codger, "Don't think that means you can spoil her rotten, old man, and go behind my back and give her tons of sweets and lemon drops."

"But Severus, children love sweets. You're being unreasonable. I'd never hurt Victoria."

"Not intentionally, but overindulging a child is not good for them. She may have one or two sweets and that is all. Or else I shall forbid her to come to your office."

"Very well, Severus. You're her father, you know best. I shall have to abide by your rules." Dumbledore acquiesced, his blue eyes twinkling.

Severus nodded and settled back in his chair, satisfied that he had made the Headmaster dance to his tune for once. Little did he know that there was a conspiracy afoot to indulge his baby girl in secret, perpetrated by a very sneaky old Headmaster and the rest of the staff and some of the students. What her daddy didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

So began the Snapes' fifth year at Hogwarts.

**Next: See how the Hogwarts staff and students help the Snapes raise Victoria. Also, Sirius' baby will be born. What will it be? Boy or girl? Anyone want to guess?**

**Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, and favorited this story and placed it on their C2 community. I am very appreciative of your responses. There will be 1 more chapter to go and an epilogue. **


	76. Bringing Up Baby Snape

**76**

**Bringing Up Baby Snape**

Looking back on it, Harry had to admit that his fifth year was a very unusual and interesting one, to say the least. For one thing, he no longer had to worry about the shadow of his old enemy hovering over him. There was no need to be constantly on his guard, or worry about crazy Defense professors out to kill or subvert him. The position was no longer cursed, and perhaps this time they might have two professors who would stay for more than a year, so the students could finally become halfway competent in the area. Harry enjoyed Defense immensely when it was taught properly, and he knew Sarai and Remus would do a fine job.

He was also happy, deliriously so, that Binns was gone and Sirius would be teaching History of Magic. Perhaps now he could do something other than just re-reading the text at night and actually learn something interesting. It had never made sense to him why that subject, which provided an introduction to all things magical, should have been taught by someone so utterly boring. It was also a relief to just be back among his friends and hug and kiss his girlfriend without fear of the press making a mountain out of a molehill.

Then, of course, there was the fact that his entire family, except for Petunia and Dudley, were living at Hogwarts. Petunia was at home, since Dudley went to a private school, but not one that boarded, and she would never leave her son home without parental supervision. Plus, Petunia said she liked the comforts of her new home better than she would have living in a drafty old castle with moving stairs and other crazy things. Sirius went to visit her every weekend and wrote endless letters to her almost every day.

But it was Nesmay and Victoria who caused the biggest changes in his school year—especially Victoria.

Nesmay was regarded by some students as a curiosity and by others as an oddity—both for her background and the fact that she had Severus as her guardian, and also because she was not an official student. It helped break the ice a little when Harry and Draco introduced her to the Dueling Club as their little sister. Nesmay demonstrated her skill with Reflecting Hexes and Harry warned, with a smirk, "Don't get on her bad side. She may small but she can fight."

Despite her unofficial status, neither Severus nor Sarai would permit their ward to neglect her studies. Severus made her up a schedule, and she did assignments for him in potions and Defense. Sarai worked out with her three times a week, honing her form in _kin-sa-dor_ while Victoria napped. Severus also acquired assignments and exercises from the other professors, so Nesmay learned Transfiguration, Herbology, History of Magic, Astronomy, Charms and a bit of Arithmancy.

Nesmay became good friends with Luna as well as Ginny, Katie, and Hermione. She and Luna could often be found down at the lake, feeding the squid and talking with the kelpie Duncan Wavestrider, who was officially courting Luna. The couple planned to marry once Luna was finished with school and was of age.

Ron had looked at the Ravenclaw girl cross-eyed. "Why would you want to get married so soon afterwards? I mean, don't you want to have some fun before you make a commitment?" As yet, Ron had no really serious girlfriend, though he dated off and on with Lavender Brown.

Luna just gave him a dreamy smile. "Marrying Duncan won't restrict me, Ron. He's not at all like a human boy. He knows how to have fun and when to be serious. And once he marries me, he is mine for all of my life. He takes his commitments to me very seriously."

Knowing Duncan, Nesmay and her brothers had no doubt that he would.

That first week, everyone from staff to students was trying to get back into school mode, and Harry, Draco, and Hermione were finding out that being prefects wasn't as easy as it appeared. Hermione stopped by Severus' quarters, which had been expanded to include Sarai, Nesmay, and Victoria, to give them a proper greeting. She especially wanted to hold the newest Snape, and brought a small gift for her.

"It's nothing much," the Gryffindor said, looking a tad embarrassed. "I saw it in the window of a baby boutique when I was shopping with my mum near her office." She handed Severus a small package wrapped in brightly colored pastels.

Inside was a baby all-in-one, colored a raspberry pink. Written across it in silver and white lettering was _She may be but little, but she is fierce!_

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Shakespeare, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, sir. I thought it was appropriate because it was from _A Midsummer Night's Dream_."

"So it is," the Potions Master agreed. "Would you like to put it on her?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "Can I?" she moved to take the snuggly wrapped bundle from her teacher. Then she halted. "Oh, no! I forgot . . . I don't know how to . . . to dress her."

"That is easily remedied," Severus said, unfazed. "Here, I will show you." He led the way into the nursery, where Sarai was carefully folding some of Victoria's clothes.

The fae warrior grinned when she saw who had followed her husband. "Hermione, well met! Is he trying to get out of nappy duty again?"

"No, I am not," Severus said, rather indignantly. "I am demonstrating how to dress a baby."

"So I can help watch her if you need me to," Hermione explained. She carried the all-in-one.

Then she watched as the professor competently undressed, changed, and dressed his daughter, noting how Severus always kept a hand upon the baby, even though the little one was too small to roll off the changing table. "Oh! It's sort of like dressing a doll," she remarked, then flushed.

"Only this doll squirms and wriggles much more," agreed her professor. "There, Toria! Look at how smart you look in your new outfit."

The baby squeaked, then giggled when he tickled her. He gently lifted her and handed her to Hermione.

Hermione held her a little stiffly, but then relaxed when Sarai suggested she sit. "Oh, it looks so sweet on her!" she cooed. "You're such a darling thing, Toria."

Sarai peered at her child, a smile creasing her face. "That is a very cute outfit, Hermione. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Hermione began to make silly faces at the baby, who waved her arms and made loud burbling noises. "Harry's so lucky. I always wanted a baby sister." She looked up at Severus. "Do you have her on a schedule? I could follow it when I watch her."

"Of course he does! The man is as mad as regimental sergeant for rules and lists," teased Sarai.

"Babies need schedules," Severus pointed out. "I have it written upon the wall there," He indicated a large piece of parchment.

"My mum always said having me on a schedule saved her sanity," Hermione remarked with a little laugh. "That way I knew when nap time was and could stop pestering her with whys."

"I see. Is that the answer to curbing your endless curiosity—a nap?" queried Severus slyly, rare humor glittering in his black eyes.

"It used to be. But now Ron claims I study in my sleep. Ridiculous, because I've only just started studying for OWLS."

Severus eyed her sternly. "I trust you are spacing out your studies and taking breaks for meals and exercise as I showed you last time? Or would you like me to make up a schedule for you as I did last year, so you don't study yourself into a coma?"

"Oh, that would be wonderful, Professor! It's not that I don't know how to prioritize my time, but with all the extra work I have as a prefect . . . sometimes I forget when to stop studying." Hermione admitted, gently rocking Toria.

"Bring me a copy of your class schedule and I shall work on it tonight." He then said, "The important thing to learn as a prefect is to make sure students follow rules and realize that you will be fair in administering lectures and punishments, no matter who does the rule breaking."

It was something he repeated to his two sons also. It was common sense, but Severus knew that common sense didn't always play a part in a teen's thinking, especially if the one misbehaving was from your own House or a friend. It made him thankful that he had no close friends when he was a prefect, and so never felt conflicted when catching rule breakers, even from his own House.

Toria fussed a little in Hermione's hold and she shifted the baby, holding her up against her shoulder. "There, there. Is that better?" the girl asked softly, she loved how the baby cuddled against her. The tiny girl smelled like vanilla and honey, two of Hermione's favorite scents. "I can't wait till you learn how to crawl and then to talk. Do you think she'll be quick to walk and talk?" She looked over at the two parents.

Severus coughed. "If I said yes, I'd sound like a braggart. It all depends on how quickly she develops."

"Some children are early to talk, but late walking. Others are the opposite. And some do both incredibly fast," Sarai answered. "I was walking before I was a year, I think. And I could speak clearly before I was two."

"I believe that I spoke early as well," Severus said. "As for walking, that I'm not as sure of, I believe I walked soon after my first birthday, which is normal. But just because both of us were early learners doesn't necessarily mean the same will be true for Toria. Babies develop at their own pace. We'll just have to wait and see."

Hermione smiled at Severus' small daughter. "I'll bet a Galleon that she'll do both before her first birthday. And she'll be strong in magic too."

"That goes without saying," Sarai chuckled. "Strong magic is bred into both her lines, and such talent is inherited. I just hope she hasn't inherited her brother's impulsiveness."

"If the fates are kind, she'll have inherited my cautiousness and Sarai's patience." Severus said. "Is she asleep?"

"I think so," Hermione said, peering at the round cheeked face. Toria's eyes were closed, her dark lashes smeared across her porcelain cheek like an ink blot. Hermione held her a bit longer before surrendering her to the Potions Master. "She's adorable, Professor Snape. I'll be happy to watch her anytime."

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he said, cradling his baby close. He did not tell the eager Gryffindor she would have to stand in line behind several Slytherin girls. Not to mention Nesmay, who cherished every moment she spent with Victoria and eyed the other girls as if they were ill-bred crows trying to snatch a sandwich from her.

That evening, all the Houses had a general prefect meeting in the small antechamber off the Entrance Hall. The meeting was something that had been suggested several years ago by Professor Sprout and Severus, and encouraged House cooperation and solidarity. In it, the prefects discussed their schedules, and who would be available to patrol the halls between the hours of eleven and one o'clock each night. After one, Filch and Snape took over, because then it was curfew for the prefects. Matthias Snow, a Ravenclaw, was Head Boy this year, as was Jenny Davis from Hufflepuff.

They discussed what was a fair amount of points to be taken for minor infractions, how much should be taken for major ones, and when it was time to inform a teacher so the repeat offenders got detention.

"Speaking of detention, Professor Snape lets us Slytherin prefects give out small ones, like writing lines or essays, or cleaning the common room, to those of our House who think it's okay to ignore school rules." Draco informed them. "Most of them shape up afterwards, because if not, then they have _him_ to deal with, and nobody messes with my father."

A loud murmur of agreement went around the room. Then Ernie Macmillan said, "Not even you and Harry, Malfoy?"

"_Especially_ not us, Ernie," Harry put in. "He's hardest on his own, right Draco?"

Draco nodded emphatically. "Remember last year, and that brawl we had with Durmstrang in _The Three Broomsticks_? Harry and I were in the thick of that one, and once my dad found out . . .Dumbledore paid for all the Hogwarts students to be released from jail, except my dad told the Aurors to keep us there overnight. So when everyone else went back to the castle and their nice warm beds, Harry and I froze in a jail cell till morning."

Several of the prefects from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff looked shocked. "Merlin! He _really_ left you in jail overnight?"

Harry nodded. "And he grounded our arses for the rest of the term too. So if you think we get off because we're a professor's sons, think again. But we learned our lesson—never get involved in a public brawl. He told me the other night not to be afraid to take points from our Houses if necessary."

"I suppose it's a necessary evil," agreed Snow. "All right, does everyone have a copy of the patrol schedule? Good. Keep it safe, we don't want it falling into the wrong hands. If there are no more questions, this meeting is adjourned."

As they all filed out, Draco pulled Hermione back into the anteroom to indulge himself in a minute or two of passionate snogging while Harry lingered outside the door. Harry wished Katie were there so he could kiss her that way, but she was busy studying for her NEWTS. Hopefully, they could meet sometime this weekend for a private supper or tea at Madam Puddifoot's.

A few nights later it was Harry and Hermione's turn to patrol the halls. At first, all seemed quiet. They started down in the dungeons, but there was no activity around there, save for the sound of Toria crying.

Harry winced. "I guess it's going to be one of those nights again," he remarked.

"Does she not sleep at night then?" asked Hermione.

"Mostly, she's a good sleeper. But lately, Sarai says she's been having trouble with her stomach. She spits up a lot and has gas, so she's cranky and irritable."

"Aww, poor baby! No wonder your dad looks like his eyes are burnt into his head." Hermione said sympathetically.

"Yeah, I doubt he's gotten a full night's sleep. He's been experimenting with some Stomach Soothers, trying to make one suitable for babies. He can't stand to see her in pain, drives him nuts, and he says the ordinary remedies don't work well enough on her. Katie's been assisting him this past week."

"Oh, is that why you two haven't seen each other?"

"Yeah, that's why." Harry sighed mournfully. "But hopefully there won't be any big homework assignments or crisis this weekend and we can go to Hogsmeade. Thank goodness we have Quidditch practice early, and Angelina's been in a good mood."

"That's 'cause George just proposed to her." Hermione laughed. "She was showing us the ring last night."

"Really? How come Ron didn't say anything to me?"

Hermione shrugged. "Who knows? He's a boy and maybe he forgot."

They continued down the hall and into Hufflepuff territory. All was quiet there as well. The Fat Friar waved as they went by.

Both Harry and Hermione were thinking about their significant others and when the time would be right for them to propose. They headed up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower. As they rounded the corner near the Room of Requirement, Hermione grabbed Harry's sleeve.

"Shhh! Do you hear something?"

Harry cocked his head. Sure enough, they heard the scuffle of feet and whispered voices.

"Is anyone there?"

"No. C'mon, mate. Hurry and take a peek before someone comes!"

Hermione's eyes flashed and she stalked down the corridor, reminding Harry of a hunting lioness. The voices were coming from the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

Harry followed, being as silent as he could. The door to the office was slightly ajar, and there was a glowing light from within, made by the rule breakers' wands. Their backs were to the door, so Harry couldn't tell who they were or from what House.

Then Hermione cleared her throat and said, "Breaking and entering in a professor's office could get you expelled!"

The two students jumped like startled deer and spun about.

Harry recognized them as two first-year Gryffindor students. He frowned down on them, looking very like his father, had he but known.

The two flashed them guilty little boy grins. "Uh . . . Harry! And Hermione! We were just . . err . . . trying to get a look at the magical Seeing Stone."

"What Seeing Stone?" Hermione demanded. "You're out of bed without permission, both of you!"

"Yeah, but . . . Josh and I were exploring," explained the smaller of the two. "Having adventures, like you and Harry used to when you found the Sorcerer's Stone."

"And the Chamber of Secrets," added the other boy, he was tall and gawky, like a young giraffe. "We wanted to see Professor Valinek's magical fairy stone."

"What magical fairy stone?" Harry repeated, now getting annoyed. "You're having us on, aren't you?"

"No, honest! I've read all the legends and they say that all the fae have these magical stones they can use to spy on us mortals and I just wanted to see what one looked like." The small boy said. "I wasn't going to steal it or anything!"

Harry rolled his eyes. He wondered if he had ever been so gullible at that age. Then again, considering how he'd grown up, he probably had been. "Look, that's all nonsense. Don't believe everything you read, especially not about the fae. Most of the people who write those books haven't even visited the Faerie Realm, and a lot of what they say is wrong. Professor Valinek's a warrior fae, not a sorceress, so she wouldn't use a scrying mirror."

"You mean, there's no such thing as a secret fairy stone?" the small boy's face fell.

"We came out here for nothing?" cried the taller boy.

"I'm afraid so, boys," Hermione interjected, her hands on her hips. "And now you're in trouble."

"Are you gonna take points?"

"Are you gonna tell Professor McGonagall?"

Hermione hesitated.

"Please don't!" begged the smaller boy. "You snuck out of bed lots of times and never got in trouble." He gave them a pleading look from beneath his long eyelashes.

Harry felt a blush creep up his neck. Who would have thought that his checkered past would come back to haunt him? He stared at the two miscreants and groaned silently. _Aw, Merlin! They're right. We were damn lucky half the time. But still, two wrongs don't make a right. And I'm supposed to set an example for them on what not to do._ He cleared his throat, thinking back on how his father used to look when he caught his sons misbehaving. "You're wrong, kid. Hermione and I lost fifty points apiece when we were caught out of bed once. And even if we hadn't, what we did was wrong and you shouldn't follow our bad example. We tell you to stay in bed at night for your own safety."

"The castle has many secret passages and rooms and it changes all the time. Get caught inside one and you might not be seen again for fifty years." Hermione warned. "What we did then was very foolish and we were lucky to not have been killed. It wasn't brave or heroic—it was stupid. Like what you two did tonight."

"We're sorry!"

"That's all well and good, but it doesn't change the fact that you're out of bed," Harry reminded them. "I'm going to take twenty-five points from each of you."

"But we're Gryffindors!" wailed the blond one.

"You're going to take points from your own House?"

"I am, because you're not above rules. You break them and you suffer the consequences, same as everyone else."

"You're lucky it was us who caught you and not Professor Snape," Hermione reminded them. "_He'd_ have given you detention so fast your head would still be spinning around. Scrubbing cauldrons for a week."

"Or writing three feet of parchment about why you should obey school rules." Harry added. "Now, get back to bed and if we catch you roaming around again, we'll march you straight to McGonagall and she'll put you on the next train home. Got it?"

Both boys paled and hung their heads. Then they scurried back down the hall to Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione looked at Harry and smirked. "The first train home? Isn't that . . . overdoing it a bit, Harry?"

"Better scared than dead, like my dad always says." Harry quipped. Then he sighed. "You know, I never realized what a bad influence I was until tonight."

"Me either. I feel terrible, thinking about everything we did wrong and how some silly kids think we're great for breaking almost all the rules."

"Yeah, well, you live and learn, right?"

"Right. Come on, let's do Ravenclaw Tower so we can get to bed." Hermione nudged Harry in the arm. "Fifty points lost! Merlin, now I have to work extra hard to bring us back to where we were."

"Don't fuss, Hermione. One extra credit paper and we'll be fine," Harry consoled her as they continued their patrol.

"Ron would think it was hilarious," she groused, still upset.

Harry agreed. Ron probably would have said it was no big deal and they should have let them off with a warning. "Yes, so it's a good thing we're the prefects, huh?"

"I wonder if Draco had problems with his House yet?" Hermione grumbled. "We can't be the only House with misbehaving firsties."

"Why don't you ask him at breakfast tomorrow?" Harry suggested. He suspected that the first few weeks were going to be a struggle, as the students tested their new prefects to see how far they could go.

The rest of the night was peaceful, however, and they returned to their common room and fell asleep.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

At breakfast that morning, Hermione sat at the Slytherin table next to Draco. Draco smiled and said, "Good morning. How did your first patrol go? It was last night, wasn't it?"

Hermione groaned and rubbed her eyes. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"What happened?" Draco repeated softly, his gray eyes filled with concern.

"It was a disaster. Harry and I found . . . we caught two Gryffindor firsties out of bed, trying to sneak into the Defense office and look for a Fairy Seeing Stone . . ."

Draco goggled. "They were looking for _what_?"

"A Fairy Seeing Stone," repeated Hermione. "I don't think it exists. We took twenty five points each from them and Harry told them if we ever caught them out of bed again they'd be on the first train home."

"Sounds like something Dad would say."

"But you know what was the worst thing?" Hermione continued. "It was that they were trying to imitate us—Harry, me, and Ron—by going on adventures and breaking rules. What kind of role model am I, Draco?"

"The best kind, Mione," he whispered, hugging her. "The kind that knows from experience what _not_ to do. You think you had problems with your House? How would you like to have found two of yours trying to cast a Withering Curse on Snarling Snapdragon they stole from Sprout's greenhouse?"

Hermione gasped. "Oh, Merlin! They _didn't_!"

"Caught them redhanded, two brainless oafs with a handwritten spellbook they bought off some shady creep in Knockturn Alley." Draco looked disgusted. "They weren't even using the right inflection or wand movements."

Hermione stared at him. "Draco, how do you know how to cast a spell like that?"

"I know because Lucius taught me," he admitted, his mouth tightening. "And the first and only time I ever cast it, Dad caught me and spanked me with his spoon. He said he wasn't going to see me travel that road if he could help it. I never used any dark magic like that again."

"I'm glad," she whispered. "What did you do to your little snakes?"

"I took fifty points from them, confiscated their wands and the bloody spellbook, and then I went and told my father what had gone on. Any attempted use of dark magic has to be reported to a teacher."

"I'll bet he was fit to be tied."

"You could say that. He gave them a week's worth of detention and I'm sure they're going to have a letter sent home also. Dad doesn't fool around with those who try and practice the Dark Arts. I doubt if I'll have any trouble with them again. And while I hate like blazes to take points from Slytherin, it was deserved. Dad's got a new policy in our House this year—he's trying to ferret out all the Dark practitioners and get them to quit using dark magic. He's also trying to clean up our reputation as the House of Evil. He's talking to all those whose families supported Voldemort during the war, and trying to show those that want to a way to live without using dark magic, to give them goals worthy of achieving. So far, it seems to be working out pretty good."

"You're helping him, aren't you?"

"Yes. Who better than me, who almost walked down the same road, thanks to his Death Eater father?" Draco said bitterly. "I know how it starts. And how it ends. But we can only help those that want to be helped, those that are willing to stand up and say no, I won't do this anymore. I won't be a slave to power. That's the hard part."

"If anyone can change their minds, you can, Draco. I have faith in you."

"Thanks, Hermione. All we can do is our best." Then he helped himself to some eggs, toast, and a slice of ham, putting everything on top of the toast and eating it.

This year was going to be a year of changes. He just hoped everyone would survive it.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*Break**

As September slipped into October, everyone began to grow accustomed to seeing Sarai carrying Victoria in a baby sling while she went walking about the grounds, or seeing Severus pushing a pram down to Hagrid's hut and visiting with the gamekeeper while Victoria napped in the pumpkin patch. All the students were happy with their new Defense lessons; Remus had them for much of the week, with Sarai teaching mostly on weekends, and letting Severus spend time with his daughter. Both parents were amazed at how fast the baby was growing. Victoria could hold up her head on her own now and her eyes followed everything. She was drinking double the amount of formula and thriving.

The students also agreed that Professor Black was a much better teacher than Binns, then again, a wax effigy would have been better than Binns, as Severus commented one day after listening to several students gush about how much better History of Magic was since Binns was gone while brewing potions. But while Sirius was able to make his subject more interesting and personable, he still had problems when it came to discipline and grading homework. After the latest fiasco with his first and second year class, Sirius decided to seek out the one teacher on staff who never seemed to have difficulty getting his students to mind.

So on a sunny Saturday, Sirius came down to tap on Snape's door. He had to knock hard because Victoria was howling loudly. "Hello? Severus, you there?"

"One moment!" came the Potion Master's voice, sounding rather frazzled.

Then the door was opened to reveal Severus holding his daughter on his shoulder, patting her back and frowning. Victoria was wailing like a banshee. "Black, this better be important. I haven't time to waste with inane questions. Come in."

Sirius stepped in and shut the door behind him. "Hey, what's the matter with the little princess?"

"She won't burp," answered the exasperated father, rubbing harder. "Therefore she's got a stomachache."

"Poor thing! Bet it hurts like a bitch," Sirius remarked.

"Brilliant deduction there!" snapped Severus. He turned and led the way into the den, muttering, "Come on, little one, let it out. Maybe I need to switch formulas."

Victoria was beet red and screaming in his ear as he went to sit down on the couch.

"Snape, let me try something, all right?" Sirius said, his sensitive ears starting to ache from the baby's cries. "Give her to me for a minute."

Severus looked at him askance. "Don't think for a minute you can frighten a burp out of her, Black. It's not like hiccups."

"Just let me hold her," Sirius said, taking Victoria from his arms. Victoria shrieked, her face scrunched up. "Hey, pretty girl. Don't cry, Uncle Sirius us going to make you feel better. Ready? One, two, three . . . up and away!" With that he tossed Victoria into the air.

"Black, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Severus yelled, frantic. "That's my baby, you imbecile, not a Snitch!" He half-rose to his feet.

"Relax, Snape. She's fine," Sirius said, neatly catching the baby, who suddenly let out a loud belch. "Ha! Works every time!" He tickled Victoria under the chin, and she let out a soft squeak. "You feel better now, don't you, sweet thing?"

"Give me her!" Severus growled, giving Sirius a death glare. He plucked Victoria from Sirius's arms and cradled her protectively. "You might have dropped her, you dumb mutt!"

"Calm down, Severus! She was perfectly safe, I used to do that to Harry when he was that age. James never minded."

"_I'm_ not Potter, and I don't like you treating my daughter like a toy! Or my son either!"

"I got her to burp, didn't I?"

Severus returned to his seat, Victoria cradled securely in the crook of his left arm. He picked up her half-finished bottle. "Here, sweetling, let's finish up your lunch." He offered the baby the bottle, but she took it for only a few seconds before refusing. She squirmed, her face crinkling again.

"Looks like she has another one in her," Sirius commented, taking a seat across from the Potions Master in the recliner.

"Obviously," Severus drawled, his lip curling. As if he needed Black to tell him that!

"Do you want me to—"

"No! God forbid you should miss! I'll do this my way." The Potions Master said stiffly. He laid the baby across his knees, then gently began pushing her small legs up and down in a bicycling motion. Not long afterwards, the baby burped again. Severus smiled at her. "There! Much better." He continued the motion for a few seconds more but Victoria seemed to have no more gas. Propping her up again on his elbow, he fed her the rest of the bottle.

As she sucked, he asked Sirius, "What do you want, Black?"

"Advice, if you can bear to part with it," Sirius said, somewhat nettled. "I've been having trouble with a couple of pranksters in my first and second year classes."

"Pranksters? And you've come to me? You should know how to deal with them, considering your misspent youth." Severus declared, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

"That was different. Yesterday, someone put sapphire moths in my desk, they ate up all my notes and I had to teach the whole lesson off the cuff, not to mention I couldn't hand back any homework because the bloody bugs ate them!" Sirius said, sounding very annoyed. "Today it was a bunch of doxies that someone let loose, and I spent half my class bringing students to the Hospital Wing because some of them got bitten, and the other half trying to capture the damn creatures. Damn it, Snape, it's _not_ funny!" he cried upon seeing Severus' smirk. "You'd be frothing at the mouth if it happened to you."

"Probably. What did you do?"

"Nothing. Well, I asked who was responsible, but nobody came forward, so what could I do? I couldn't punish everyone."

"That's exactly what you should have done. Taken points from each one until the culprit came forward. I'm sure the students know which one of them is responsible, and they would have made the prankster come forward once they realized you were going to keep on taking points until the guilty party was found."

"But that's cruel and unfair!"

"So is disrupting your lesson with pranks. Sirius, they're testing you to see if you can take the pressure and make them behave. You can't let them think you're a pushover, or else they'll walk all over you."

"But Severus, I don't want to be a drill sergeant, like—"

"Like me? Black, being a drill sergeant saves lives. In my classroom, the chance of a student harming himself or someone else is tripled. It's almost the same with Defense. You don't dare teach combat spells unless you're sure you can control your students. Being nice won't help them. You're not here to make friends with your students, Black, you're here to teach them. Take charge and assert your authority. Talk to some of the better behaved students, see if they know who's behind the pranks. Then set a Monitoring Charm across the room. It'll alert you when a student is casting something at you or is unleashing something upon you. Once you've caught your merry prankster, give him the worst detention you can think up. Then issue an ultimatum to the rest of them. Don't give an inch. Make it clear that such behavior will not be tolerated at all. Once they've seen what you do to their fellow prankster, they'll think twice, hopefully, about doing something like that again."

"What if they don't?"

"Then you keep giving detention, and making them worse, until the students learn their lesson. Sometimes it takes a few repeat consequences before it sinks into their tiny little brains that you mean what you say. It's similar to punishing your stepson. You have to be consistent and firm."

Severus gently prized the nipple from Toria's mouth and lifted her to his shoulder, which was covered with a large cloth. He began to pat firmly. Toria fussed, then let out an enormous burp. "Good job!" he praised, then grimaced when he saw she had spit up. He quickly wiped her mouth and cuddled her. She nuzzled his neck and made small sucking noises.

"No, you're done eating, little one. Now it's nap time." He began rubbing small circles on her back, while Summoning her favorite sleepy toy, Lady Snapdragon. He gave her the stuffed rag doll while continuing to pat her rhythmically.

"You're going to put her to sleep right after she eats?" Sirius looked puzzled. "How come?"

"Because she's tired, and if I keep her awake she'll become cranky and scream the walls down," answered Severus. "Now, have I answered all your questions? I need to get her to sleep, and she won't nap if you're here talking."

Sirius considered manufacturing another question just to annoy his brother by marriage, but then decided it was too risky. He didn't want to get on Snape's bad side, because then Snape might refuse to help him. Then he recalled his homework problems. "Uh . . . I do have one more. What do I do about homework that I can't read?"

"Hand it back and tell them to re-do it and you'll give half-credit, otherwise it's a zero."

"Just half-credit? Why not full?"

Severus ground his teeth. "Look, Black, do you want my advice or not? I give half credit for re-done assignments because it teaches students that sloppiness is not an excuse for handing in a poorly done assignment. If the student has a problem with penmanship you should speak to his or her Head of House, and they can get them extra penmanship lessons. But some students are lazy and write sloppily on purpose. That needs to be stopped. That's all I have to say. Take it or leave it."

"Fine. You needn't be so snippy." Sirius stood.

Severus fixed him with a cold stare. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to get Toria to sleep, now do yourself a favor and leave. _Quietly._ Before I lose all patience and escort you out with the toe of my boot."

Sirius gaped at him.

Severus deliberately turned about and went into the nursery, which was off the den.

Sirius made a face at him and muttered, "Bloody drill sergeant!" before exiting, closing the door quietly behind him. "That poor kid! He's going to make her into a little puppet before she's three. Merlin's arse, but I'm never going to do that to my kid."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

November blew in chilly and Quidditch season started. Because of the games, Sarai changed her lessons to Sunday and Friday evenings, and tended to hold them in an empty classroom on the third floor instead of outside on the lawn, because several students complained of the cold. The former Blade taught her students practical as well as magical means of self-defense, though she could not teach them _kin-sa-dor_, as she had Harry and Draco.

Still, what she did teach was general all-purpose moves that enabled a student to protect themselves even without a wand at hand. "Part of defense is being alert to your surroundings. Always know where you can run to, whether to escape or to call for help. You might not be able to match your enemy spell for spell, but there's nothing wrong with your feet, unless they've tied you up. So, run if you can, and don't think it cowardly—he who runs away lives to fight another day."

"Have _you_ ever run from anything, Professor Valinek?" asked Millicent Bulstrode.

"Yes. My first duty was to protect the Queen, and if I felt it was in our best interests to retreat rather than engage a foe with greater numbers, I did so. It is not always necessary to kill an enemy in order to defeat him."

She had them run laps before her practice sessions, to build up wind and stamina. Most of her lessons focused on unarmed combat. They learned how to dodge, block, and throw a punch. How to kick an opponent in the knee or the groin, to use their fingers to poke an eye. She paired them up in spars with large to small in height and weight, male to female, explaining that most times you would be at an unfair advantage in a real fight, and had to learn how to compensate.

"Surprise is the key. Your enemy may be bigger, stronger, and have more magic, but all that matters naught if you hit him in the head with a big enough rock. It's the one thing that he won't be expecting."

She taught them how to use the spellcraft they had learned efficiently, and that even a simple spell like a Butterfingers Jinx could prove an opponent's undoing. "Cast that upon a swordsman and you've just disarmed him. Cast it upon a witch or wizard with a wand and it's just as effective as a Disarming Charm and a lot less obvious. Above all, never underestimate the enemy. Many a cocky young warrior before you has done so and ended in an early grave. Make sure you don't."

She was strict but fair, and graded according to effort as well as skill. But she tolerated no insolence or pranks, and those who tried either ended up running extra laps or doing thirty pushups for their attitude for detention.

There were few complaints about her lessons, because almost all of the students recognized the value of learning practical ways to defend themselves. By and large, most looked forward to lessons with their half-fae teacher, and respected her more than they had any other Defense teacher, save Lupin.

Usually, when she taught, Severus watched Victoria, he loved watching his baby girl grow. That afternoon, he had placed her on a flowered quilt on the floor of the den, on her stomach, she was wearing the pink all-in-one Hermione had given her, plus fuzzy matching socks and knit pants. Her bright green eyes were focused on her teddy bear, which had been a gift from Filius Flitwick. The bear could dance on command, and was doing so now, back and forth across the quilt.

Victoria was cooing at it and reaching for it as it drew near.

Beside her, close to the fire, rested Cafall. The almost fully-grown mist hound adored the baby, and was always close by. He slept beside her cradle at night, and was fiercely protective of _"his"_ baby, not allowing strangers to come near unless they had been introduced to him first by a family member. The dog had his head on his forepaws, dozing while Victoria played and Severus graded his latest batch of homework.

Severus set down his quill and went to kneel on the quilt, he had been trying to teach the baby to roll over, since she was now three months old. She could already hold her head steady and support herself on her arms for brief periods. As soon as he sat down beside her, Toria smiled happily, her green eyes lighting up. Already she could recognize all her family members, and smiled and laughed when she saw them.

"Toria, look! Here comes the dancing bear," he called softly to his daughter, making the bear dance past her and to the left. "Try and get him! Come on, reach out and get his paw."

Severus made the bear halt, trying to encourage his daughter to reach out for the bear and start to roll over. "Yes! That's it! Now roll over. Roll over!"

Toria kept reaching, but every time she had almost grasped the bear, she stopped trying. Frustrated, she started to cry.

"Hush!" Severus murmured. He patted the quilt beside her. "Don't cry, it's right here. All you have to do is roll over."

Toria whined, her tiny hands reaching.

Cafall woke upon hearing the familiar command to roll over. He had learned that trick long ago. He cocked his head and looked at his alpha and the infant, trying to figure out why Severus kept repeating the command. He sensed that his alpha wanted to be obeyed, but the little one didn't understand. Cafall poked her lovingly with his snout and licked her. When he was sure he had gotten her attention, he demonstrated the "roll over".

The misthound lay on his back, all four paws in the air, grinning.

"Cafall! For Merlin's sake!" Severus rolled his eyes. "Not you! I want _her_ to roll over."

Toria squealed and went to clutch a handful of Cafall's pale fur.

Cafall rolled away from her, fetching up near the hearth. His tail thumped merrily upon the floor.

"Oh, all right! You can play too," Severus conceded with a sigh. But then he had an idea. "Toria, get Cafall! Roll over and get Cafall!"

The little girl grew very excited, and struggled to reach the dog, who was rolling back and forth each time he heard the command. She pushed hard with her legs and suddenly rolled over to her side.

"Yes, very good! Now come all the way about." Her father encouraged, holding out the bear.

Toria plopped down on the quilt, looking very startled.

Severus applauded. "Excellent! You rolled over!" He gave her the bear, and she stuffed a paw into her mouth, gumming it. "Wait till we show your mama what you learned today." He felt as proud as if she had just brewed a perfect potion.

Cafall whuffed happily. Then he looked expectantly at Severus, asking plainly where _his_ treat was. Severus obligingly tossed him a dog sausage. Cafall gulped it down, then waited to see what else might be forthcoming.

Severus encouraged Toria to roll over twice more, and each time he did so, Cafall copied her. The third time, Toria rolled over right on the poor dog, and delightedly pulled his fur out. Then she screamed angrily when her father took the fur away before she could taste it and reproved gently, "No, Victoria! Be nice to Cafall! Nice!" He took her small hand and ran it gently down the dog's side.

But Toria was irritable now and kept screaming, having a noisy fit until Severus distracted her from Cafall by giving her the bear again.

"You're a good dog, Cafall," Severus told him, ruffling the soft fur and scratching behind his long silky ears. "Very patient."

Cafall grunted happily and put his head on Severus' knee. He could have told his alpha that he didn't mind the little one pulling his fur out, she didn't know any better.

When Sarai, Harry, Draco, and Nesmay arrived back from their lesson, Severus told them to see what Victoria had learned today. "Watch what she can do. Roll over, Victoria! Show Mama and everyone what you learned, my clever girl!" he coaxed.

Immediately, Cafall rolled over. A little afterwards, so did Victoria.

Draco and Harry burst out laughing.

"That's great, Dad! It's like a comedy act!" gasped Harry as he watched his baby sister and the dog frolic.

Nesmay giggled. "I've heard that you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but I've never heard about a dog teaching a baby a trick before!"

"There's not another dog as smart as our Cafall," stated Draco.

Sarai wiped tears from her eyes. "Or such a smart baby," she crooned, then she picked up Victoria and kissed her and hugged her, loving the way her daughter smelled sweetly of milk, and honey and lavender soap. Toria put her head on her mother's shoulder and yawned, she was now very sleepy and preferred her mother's arms to rest in.

"We have to get a picture of her and Cafall," Harry said, grinning. "Think she'll do it again, Sarai?"

"Yes, but right now she's sleeping."

"Already?" Severus asked.

"You wore her out, Sev. It's a good thing too, for she'll need all the sleep she can get, for tomorrow she had an appointment with Madam Pomfrey for her second round of vaccinations."

Harry made a face. "Ugh! Poor baby! I hate shots."

Draco nodded. "Me too."

"I'm not particularly fond of them either, but it's a necessity," said their father. "Who's going to bring her this time, Sarai?"

"You, because I did last time." His wife replied, going to put the baby down for a nap.

"Wonderful," her husband said sarcastically, looking as unhappy about it as his sons. He hated seeing his baby hurting, but at least once these vaccines were over, all she would need was a booster one at age five and the last at age ten.

He eyed his three older children. "Well, why are you all standing around like dunderheads? Don't you have homework to do?"

"Yes, sir," Harry grumbled.

"Did you have to remind us?" Draco muttered.

"I was hoping you'd forget," sighed Nesmay.

"Only if I'm senile," her guardian shot back. "Nice try, Nesmay."

She pouted a little before going to her bookbag and taking out her folder of assignments. The boys soon followed suit and soon the whole family was gathered about the table, grading tests in the case of the two professors and finishing up homework due the next day. Cafall sprawled beneath the table, his head on Harry's foot, drooling in his sleep.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Hospital Wing_

_The next morning:_

Poppy smiled when she saw Severus carrying Victoria into the Hospital Wing. "Good morning, Severus! You're here bright and early. And how's your adorable little pixie this morning?" She tickled Toria under the chin.

"She's doing well. I think she's gained some more weight." Severus informed the mediwitch.

"Good! Let's see, shall we?" Poppy indicated Severus should sit on one of the exam tables and hold the baby. She waved her wand about the infant, casting the standard round of diagnostic spells. "She's doing wonderful, Severus. Everything is normal, and she has gained another pound. She now weighs almost 12 pounds and is 23 inches long."

"She was only 6 and one half pounds at birth."

"Yes, well, she was a twin, and twins are often smaller than a single baby. How is she doing with feeding?"

Severus told her about the recent trouble with gas and Poppy suggested making a few minor adjustments to the formula. Then it was time for the injections. There were two of them, one was a combination of three magical maladies—dragon pox, goblin fever, and pixie pneumonia. The other was a combination of some Muggle diseases that wizards were susceptible to—diphtheria, pertussis, and tetanus.

Severus removed Victoria's leggings while Poppy busied herself with the cart containing the syringes and vaccine. "It's all right, it'll only hurt for a moment," he whispered to the baby, who was starting to whimper a little. He was trying to sound soothing, but inwardly he was cringing in dread. He wished Poppy would give her a Sleeping Draft before the injections.

Poppy turned about, a long silver needle in her hand. "Severus, hold her tight now. This won't take but a moment—"

Severus went pale and clutched Victoria to him. The sight of that glistening instrument caused him to instinctively jerk away and snap, "No! There's no way you're sticking _that_ in _my_ baby!"

Poppy halted, astonished. "Why, Severus! The vaccine is perfectly safe."

Victoria began to fuss, sensing her father's uneasiness. He narrowed his eyes. "Why can't you give her something to make her sleep through it? Then it won't hurt her as much."

Poppy's eyes widened. "Put a child out with a Sleeping Draft for a few seconds worth of pain? Severus, that's ridiculous! Now stop going spare! We've done this before, you know."

"Not with me. That needle looks too big. She's tiny!"

"It's the proper size, trust me." Poppy frowned. "I must say, Severus, your wife took this much better than you."

Severus scowled. "Sarai would, she's used to getting stuck with shiny metal objects and watching others getting stuck with them too." He was holding Victoria in a protective grasp, his body interposed between her and the mediwitch. "I'd rather you stuck me with it then her."

"Severus, calm down. I promise to put a numbing paste on her skin before I give her the injection, that way she won't feel it that much. But if you're all nervous and alarmed, then she will be too, and it'll hurt worse. Understand?"

Severus nodded. "Give me a moment." He started to take several deep breaths trying to calm down. He knew he was acting like a complete idiot, but he couldn't help himself. The mere thought of someone inflicting pain, even though it was necessary, upon his baby girl made him want to break something, preferably the hands of said person. Abruptly, he rose, and began to walk up and down the infirmary, struggling against his instincts, using every scrap of will and discipline to bring his raging overprotective fatherly instincts to heel.

Finally, he managed to leash them, and get Victoria quiet enough again to sit on his lap. "All right, we're ready," he said, returning to the table. He silently apologized to his daughter as Poppy approached with the numbing paste. He gritted his teeth when she administered the first vaccine in Toria's left thigh.

The baby let out a soft yelp.

Severus hugged her. "Shh. I know it stings. Be brave, you have one more."

Poppy quickly gave the other vaccine in the opposite thigh. Victoria wailed. "There, there! It's all done. I'd give you a lolly, but you're too little." She kissed the top of Victoria's head.

Severus immediately cradled her and rocked her, pale as a sheet, murmuring reassurance into her shell pink ear.

"Severus, you're not going to . . . faint are you?" Poppy queried, concerned.

He shook his head firmly. "Bite your tongue, Pomfrey! I've never fainted in my life." He continued to rock his daughter, whose sobs were dwindling as the pain faded.

"I think those vaccinations hurt you worse than they did Victoria!" Poppy remarked, amused.

Severus grunted, not deigning to answer. What did she think, that he was made of stone, to sit back and watch his baby hurting and just shrug it off? Poppy was lucky he hadn't hexed her.

"You might want to give her some chamomile and a drop or two of Children's Pain Reliever when you get home, Severus. That might keep her from having a reaction to the shots. If she develops a fever or a rash, just Floo me."

Severus nodded, his jaw clenched. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He gently wiped the tears from his daughter's eyes and put her on his shoulder. He rose and exited the infirmary, calling a gruff thank you before stalking away, though he really wanted to swear a blue streak at Pomfrey for putting them both through that terrible ordeal.

"Next time, your mother's taking you to the Healer's," he told his daughter.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

By the time the holidays rolled around again, everyone was looking forward to the holiday break. Thanks to Draco and Severus' schedule, Hermione managed to avoid her usual stressful pre-exam jitters and still scored at the top of her class. Katie managed to pull off an E in her NEWT potions exam and class, she was so happy she kissed Harry right in front of everyone in the Great Hall. To Harry's surprise, no one seemed to mind, not even Severus.

As for the Snape family, they all received excellent marks for the term, including Nesmay, who was seriously considering attending Hogwarts next year. They all went home to the manor and celebrated Christmas Eve there. It was Toria's first Christmas, so of course she was spoiled rotten by everyone, even her father, though he would never admit to it. But after all the presents were opened, the family quietly went out to the cemetery and placed Christmas poinsettias upon all the graves, and they lit a lantern on Alex's.

On Christmas Day, they were all invited to the Weasleys for dinner, along with Sirius, Petunia, and Dudley. Petunia was now starting to show a lot, and Harry thought she looked like she could deliver any day now.

"Don't say that too loud, Harry," warned Dudley. "I happened to say that she looked a little . . . you know . . . big and she smacked me one with her spoon."

"Boys!" Nesmay rolled her eyes. "What do you expect, telling a lady she's fat?"

"That it's a compliment," Ginny snorted. "Boys are clueless. Come on, Ness, let me show you my new wireless, we can listen to the Weird Sisters on it."

The two girls disappeared upstairs, leaving the boys to fool around with their brooms or eat the never-ending supply of snacks Mrs. Weasley had set out on the porch table for them.

Inside, Petunia was discussing her various stages of pregnancy with Molly and Sarai, while Toria slammed her new goblin-face rattle onto her high chair over and over.

The rattle had been a gift from Fred and George, one side had a giggly face that laughed when you shook it, the other had a semi-scary goblin face that said "Boo!" Toria, as the only baby, was made much of by the Weasleys, and the twins had been delighted to have another baby girl to play with.

"Hey, looky here, Snapey baby!" Fred had cooed when the presents were handed out.

"Looky what we've got—" George began.

"—for you, little honey bee!" Fred finished, pulling out the rattle with a flourish.

The goblin side had been facing the adults, and Severus frowned upon seeing it. "Boys, what do you mean by giving her a rattle with a goblin head on it? You'll scare her half to death!"

"Nah, professor!" George disagreed. "She doesn't scare easy!"

"Watch," Fred laughed, and turned the rattle around.

"Boo!" screeched the gobin face.

Toria blinked. Then she burst out laughing and banged the rattle on the ground. She was sitting in front of Sarai, playing with the strips of wrapping paper, and some of her new toys.

"Yeah! That's our girl!" the twins hooted, clapping.

For once, Severus had nothing to say.

Until Harry suggested he take his baby sister flying with him and Ron. "Please, Dad? She loves it, we flew outside by the manor, and I promise I'll be careful. I want Ron and Dudley to see how she loves being on a broom."

Severus looked at Sarai. "Well? What do you think?"

Sarai considered. "I trust Harry not to endanger his baby sister. You will use a Sticking Charm, won't you?"

"Of course!" Harry said, somewhat indignantly.

Severus eyed his son, and said, "Merlin help you, boy, if there's an accident. Because I'll break that broomstick over your backside."

"All right, Dad! Relax! I'll be careful, don't go off the deep end," Harry growled. He was embarrassed by his father's overprotective streak.

"I'll make sure he doesn't try anything stupid, sir," Ron put in, and got elbowed in the ribs by Harry for his trouble.

"Thanks a lot, mate!"

"And _I'll_ keep an eye out for both of them," Draco added, a tad smugly.

"You're not my keeper, Draco!" snapped Harry.

"Yeah, Malfoy, who died and made you the babysitter police?" Ron groused.

"Now boys," began Molly. "Are you going to sit here and argue over it all afternoon, or are you going to go flying? Because the longer you fight, the more chance you have of that itty bitty baby falling asleep before you come to an agreement." She indicated Victoria, who was looking a little sleepy.

That stopped the argument cold. Harry put Toria in her sling and fastened it around his neck. He then Stuck the baby sling to his chest, so Toria wouldn't bounce around when he flew. Then he went out the back door, where his Firebolt was propped against the railing. Draco and Ron followed.

When Severus would have risen as well, Sarai caught his arm. "Severus, sit down."

"But Sarai, I need to—"

"You need to stop being such a mother hen and trust your sons. You know as well as I do that they'd die before they let any harm come to their sister. Harry especially. Now sit down and enjoy your eggnog and mince pasties."

Severus allowed himself to be tugged back in his chair next to his wife.

"Merlin, but I pity that poor kid when she starts to date," Sirius said, snickering. "The poor boy's gonna need some serious siege equipment to even get into the castle, much less escort the fair lady out of it."

"Just wait, Sirius, until you have your own. Then you'll understand why Severus is the way he is," Molly said wisely. "Arthur was just like him when Ginny was born. Nothing was too good for his baby girl, and every time she cried, he was there to hold her. And none of the boys were allowed to make her cry either. Why, I remember once George—or was it Fred? No, it was George . . . was teasing her with a stuffed lion and scared her by pushing it in her face. She screamed and Arthur came running in bellowing like a Bedlamite. Poor George hadn't meant to scare her, but Arthur spanked him and sent him to bed without supper anyway."

"If I'd done that to Ron, Dad would have laughed, but because it was Ginny, the little princess, I got my bum tanned," George said ruefully. "There's just no coming between-?"

"—a dad and his little girl," Fred grinned.

"Oh, Merlin, I hope I have a boy," said Sirius fervently.

"I don't," said Petunia, putting a hand upon her belly.

Severus took another sip of his brandy-laced eggnog and tried to avoid thinking about all the things that might go wrong with Toria riding a broom with Harry. It wasn't that he didn't trust his son to do the right thing, but Victoria was so vulnerable, so fragile, and he couldn't help wanting to keep her safe. All the time. He sighed and took another drink of his eggnog. Maybe if he were drunk his anxiety would go away. He snorted at his own foolishness. That was his father's style, not his. He had only been drunk once in his life, after Lily's death and it hadn't been worth the hangover the next morning. He forced himself to nibble on a pasty and prayed that Sirius would also have a girl, because that would be the perfect revenge on the former Marauder and ladies man. Severus smirked imagining it.

"What's so funny, Snape?" asked Sirius, noting the gleam in the other's black eyes.

"Nothing. I'm just thinking happy thoughts," answered Severus slyly, and took another mincemeat pasty from the tray.

Meanwhile, the three boys and baby Toria flew around the Burrow and the pumpkin patch, hovering a mere ten feet from the ground.

"See, Ron? She's perfectly safe," muttered Harry out of the corner of his mouth. "I swear, sometimes my dad acts like a bloody girl over my sister. He worries over everything with her!"

Ron covered his mouth with his hand, laughing. "Harry, you'd better pray he never finds out what you just said."

"He won't. Unless _you_ tell him," Harry shot looks at his best friend and his brother.

"Nah. I don't want to have to bury another brother," Draco said, then he went quiet. "Maybe that's why he's like this, Harry. Not just because she's a girl and all fathers are overprotective with them, but because he lost Alex. That hurt him bad and maybe he's trying to make up for it by protecting Toria."

"That makes sense," Ron agreed.

"I never thought about it that way before." Harry said, carefully looping about the corner of the Burrow.

"Or, it could be because you dropped the Snitch during practice last week and he saw it," Ron reminded, smirking.

"Bite me, Weasley!" Harry growled, flushing. Ron _would_ have to remind him of his worst practice ever. He kicked the Firebolt up a quarter of a notch, making his baby sister giggle.

They flew for several more minutes, their teasing banter interspersed with loud high-pitched squeals of laughter from Severus' precious baby girl.

**A/N: Okay, so I _thought_ this was going to be the last chapter of the story, but . . . the best laid plans of mice and men and fanfic authors . . . often go astray. I felt that this chapter was getting too long and I couldn't say all I wanted it to say in just one more chapter, so . . . you're getting an extra chapter with more Snape family and the Hogwarts staff and the birth of Sirius's baby. Hope that makes you as happy as it does me! Oh, and there will be an epilogue too! **


	77. Family Ties

**77**

**Family Ties**

**AN: An extra long chapter for all my readers! Please forgive any grammatical / spelling mistakes, I've been under a lot of stress lately, both with work and my mom went into the hospital a few days ago.**

"Severus, it's amazing how much she's grown in just a few weeks," Dumbledore exclaimed as he caught sight of Victoria, now sitting up in a high chair at the staff table for breakfast. This was their first day back at school after New Year's Day.

Severus looked every inch the proud father. "Yes, she's starting to eat solid food and she babbles constantly."

A small plate of warm barley cereal mixed with pureed peaches and formula popped up in front of his daughter, along with a rubber spoon. She eagerly opened her mouth as Severus put in the first spoonful.

"She certainly seems to like that," Dumbledore observed, as Victoria devoured her cereal and fruit. "What is it? Rice cereal and mangos?"

"No, it's barley cereal with peaches. Rice is harder for her to digest, it can constipate her, so Sarai and I prefer the barley mixture," answered the Potions Master. "We're trying out a new food every four days and seeing how she tolerates it. So far she seems to enjoy everything."

"That's good. It's hard to deal with a fussy eater. My brother Abe was so picky, he drove my mother crazy. Me, I'd eat almost everything, especially sweet things," the Headmaster remarked. He gazed at Victoria fondly. "Severus, why don't you eat while I feed her?"

The Potions Master looked a bit startled, for this was the first time Albus had volunteered to do more than hold or play with the baby. "All right." He handed the Headmaster the spoon and bowl. For once he could eat his breakfast while it was still hot and didn't have to use a charm to re-heat it. "Thank you, Albus."

"Not at all, my boy." Albus took the spoon and began coaxing the baby to eat, saying, "Now here comes the magic broomstick—whoosh! Open up, Toria, dear!" He flew the spoon into her mouth. "That's my girl! Mmmm! I like peaches too, my favorite dessert is peach cobbler . . ."

While Albus was minding Victoria, Severus took his time eating, and listening to the conversations of his colleagues around him.

Sirius was talking to McGonagall about two Gryffindors who had earned themselves detention with him again for charming several of their classmates' books to pop out a rather risqué picture of a pretty witch with slit robes exposing her legs that danced the can can and sang _"There's a place in France where naked Beauxbatons girls dance with a hole in the wall so the boys can see it all . . ."_

"Now while I might have thought they were rather clever and it was rather amusing, it totally disrupted my class. They had the nerve to tell me that they thought it would be okay if we studied Recreational History of Magic! Even after I removed the charm, no student could open their books without cracking up laughing, and it was impossible for them to pay attention after that . . ." Sirius was saying.

McGonagall was frowning, with a pinched look on her face that made her look as if she had swallowed an Extra Sour Sucker. "I shall speak to Misters Herringbone and Radcliffe again about their inappropriate behavior. They are almost as bad as the Weasley twins, I fear." She sighed gustily. The student she had mentioned were third-years, best friends, and proud disciples of Fred and George.

Severus had to bite his lip to keep from smirking. It was so deliciously ironic to have Sirius Black, Marauder, now being forced to endure pranksters in his class, and discovering firsthand how it felt to be on the receiving end of petty and annoying jokes. Not only that, but for once it was Gryffindors on the receiving end of McGonagall's censor and not Slytherins. Poetic justice indeed!

Remus was discussing the habits and abilities of several dark fae creatures with Sarai, for he was going to teach a unit on recognizing and protecting yourself from dark creatures of other Realms. He was scribbling rapidly upon a piece of parchment as Sarai detailed the numerous dark creatures that haunted the fae realm, such as lurks, darkhounds, orcs, night hags, nightmare steeds, cloakers, sirens, ice drakes, and Unseelie.

"I think the fifth and sixth years will benefit greatly from learning about the fae realm, and it's not as if we haven't seen some of those unsavory beast here from time to time."

"Exiles thrown through a Gate," Sarai nodded. "It's not something that happens often, but on occasion the Queen of Air and Darkness will get in a pet and she shall banish a few of her minions who have failed her in some task or another. So it's always best to be prepared."

"Right." Remus agreed. He enjoyed working with the half-fae warrior, finding her a refreshing blend of seriousness and wry humor. "How's Toria doing?"

"She's learning something new everyday. Severus thinks she's the most brilliant baby ever born," chuckled Sarai.

"Of course he would, she's his little girl." Remus grinned. "And you, my lady Blade?"

"I adore my daughter, she was what gave me a reason for living after I lost my son." A shadow darkened her expressive eyes for a moment. "But though I love her dearly, I'm not blind to her faults. She has her father's quick temper, and my stubbornness. But she also has inherited my curiosity and Sev's thirst for learning. You might think I'm being ridiculous, but I can almost _see_ her absorbing things, her little mind is like a sponge. I have only to show her something once and she remembers."

"I'm not surprised. Your husband is a genius and you're the most brilliant Defense instructor I've ever met. I'd wager my right arm that you had the best education your kingdom could offer. So it should follow that any child of yours would learn things without half trying. I've read that during the first two years a human mind is capable of learning at an astonishing rate, that the capacity to retain information and learn motor skills is at its highest peak then. I don't know if the same's true of a fae child, but it would seem likely."

"Most fae children learn to walk before a year has passed, and many can speak as well." Sarai said. "Whether or not Toria will be like that remains to be seen. One can hope."

She glanced over at her child, who had finished her bowl of cereal and was now gnawing upon a hard heel of bread. Seeing that Toria was content, she turned back to her own breakfast.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

January 9th started out an ordinary day for Harry. It was Monday, so he had three of his favorite classes—History of Magic in the morning, Potions just before lunch, and Defense in the afternoon. All were double periods, lasting about an hour and a half. Once History of Magic and potions had been torture for him to be in for that time, but all of that had changed the summer of third year and this one. Now he enjoyed his father's class, because he could brew competently and he enjoyed History of Magic as well because Sirius never managed to put him to sleep like Binns had.

In History of Magic they were studying the Founding of Gringotts and its policies, and Sirius had set them to work in groups of three, with each of them playing either a goblin or a wizard, and trying to come up with financial policies that would suit everyone involved. It was an interesting scenario to work with, and even if the policies the group came up with were flawed, they still were given full marks for trying. Sirius had said he would reveal the true policy at the end of next period, after all of them had demonstrated their policies to the class. Harry and Ron had to admit that Sirius methods were a lot better than Binns' lecturing.

"Today's my dad's birthday," Harry whispered to Ron once they were in their groups. His group consisted of Ron, Blaise, and himself. Draco was with Hermione and Goyle. "And we're giving him something worth its weight in Galleons."

Ron's eyes widened. "What is it?"

"A surprise," Harry grinned.

"Phoenix Tears," Blaise guessed.

"Nope. But that's a good guess."

They spent half the period pretending to work on their assignment, but most of their discussion focused on Ron and Blaise trying to guess what Harry had gotten Professor Snape for his birthday. They managed to finish their policy rules and regulations just before the period ended.

That day in potions, they were brewing a Draught of Peace. Because it was such a complicated potion, Severus had paired his best students with those who were mediocre for the lesson, to ensure more completed potions. So Draco was paired with Goyle, Blaise with Crabbe, Harry with Neville, and Hermione with Ron. Draco grumbled a bit under his breath, for he really enjoyed working with Hermione, but he quickly stopped his muttering when Severus asked if he had something he would like to share with the rest of them.

_A Draught of Peace, that's a good one, Dad,_ Harry thought as he measured out the ingredients, letting Neville start the fire and begin adding the water. _And we're going to make sure you have a very peaceful evening tonight._ He smirked to himself thinking of the nice surprise he, Draco, Nesmay, and Sarai had planned for the Potions Master. It was something Severus often longed for but never really received.

Once they had added all the ingredients, Harry told Neville to stir the cauldron the required amount of time while he penned a note to Draco and made it into a paper airplane, which he then tossed across the aisle to where Draco was working.

Draco swiftly caught it and read it, then fed it to his fire. He gave his cauldron two more stirs and told Goyle to clean up, then scribbled a reply on a parchment scrap, folded it and sent it over to Harry.

Harry caught the note, but unfortunately Severus was nearby, critiquing another pair's potion, and he saw the note in his son's hand before Harry could either read or hide it.

"Passing notes during class, Mr. Snape?" Severus queried shortly, his tone dripping with disapproval.

Harry squirmed guiltily. "Uh . . . it was just . . . a reminder . . ." He winced when he met his father's gaze.

Severus held out his hand wordlessly.

Harry cursed roundly in his head as he handed the professor the note. He doubted whether Severus would be able to figure out anything from it, Draco hadn't signed it, but still . . .

Severus unfolded the parchment and read it. _Everything's set for 5:30. Don't forget to bring it with you._

"What does this refer to, Mr. Snape?"

Harry gulped. He had been afraid his father would ask that. "I . . . can't tell you, sir."

The Potion Master's eyes narrowed. He leaned over and hissed in his son's ear, "Is this some kind of illegal substance?"

"Drugs?" Harry gasped. "No! Hell, Dad, how could you think that?"

"Then why won't you tell me what this is about?"

"Because it's private," Harry answered, going scarlet.

Severus straightened. "I don't allow the passing of private notes in my class, Mr. Snape. Five points from Gryffindor. See me after class."

"Yes, sir." Harry groaned. _Merlin, Dad!_

Severus glanced down at their cauldron. "Keep stirring, you haven't reached the proper shade yet. Otherwise, a well done solution." Then he spun about and glided to the back of the room to inspect another cauldron.

"Sounds like you're in trouble, Harry," Neville whispered. "Think he'll give you detention?"

"I don't know. If he was going to, he'd have done it by now." Harry sighed. "I think he's going to take strips off me privately. I don't know which is worse."

"Why were you and Malfoy passing notes?"

"It's . . . a surprise. Or at least it's supposed to be." Harry bit his lip and took over stirring the cauldron.

Finally the period ended and everyone brought their finished potion up to Snape's desk.

Severus dismissed them, all save for Harry. Draco caught his brother's eye and gave him a commiserating glance before leaving him to their father's tender mercy. Harry stood in front of the desk, the toe of one sneaker scraping the flagstones.

Severus crossed his arms over his chest and gave his son a medium Snape glare. "Whatever gave you the idea that you could conduct private . . . correspondence during my lesson, young man? I would have thought you learned by now that when you are brewing, your entire focus should be on the task at hand, _not_ chatting with your friends!"

Harry hung his head. "I know, sir. But I had some time while the potion was steeping to . . . ask a question . . . I'm sorry, I should have waited until after class."

"You should have, especially considering who your partner was. One moment of inattention when Longbottom was adding something could have ruined your potion and resulted in a zero for today's lesson." Severus scolded.

"Yes, sir." Harry mumbled. _Great, just great! Now I've ticked him off._ He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "How many cauldrons am I scrubbing?" He hoped that suggesting his own punishment would cause Severus to consider it and not something else, like scrubbing the floor or chopping up stinkweed.

Severus stared down at him, his lips compressed into a thin line. "I would have you scrubbing out several tonight, but Sarai has requested we all eat dinner together in my quarters as a family, I think she wishes to celebrate my birthday. Therefore, I shall let this go."

"You will?" Harry gaped at him.

"This time _only_, Harry Albus Snape. If it happens again, you will regret it. Clear?"

"Yes, sir. Thanks!"

Severus snorted. "Thank your mother, Harry. Go and eat lunch, I can hear your stomach growling from here." He made a shooing motion with his hand.

Harry waved and was out the door at the speed of a Snitch flying. He had never been more grateful that it was Severus' birthday.

Severus' last class finished at four thirty, and Sarai had told him to be on time for dinner at five thirty, so he had time to grade a few quizzes and homework as well as answer a few questions some of his Slytherins had in his office before heading down to his apartments.

He found the usual assortment of cards, notes, and sweets upon his desk and in his mailbox. There were also a few tastefully wrapped packages as well, from colleagues who dared to send him a gift. Most of his Slytherins knew he enjoyed dark chocolate and hot cocoa, and honey drops, which soothed a sore throat. Talking all day and breathing in certain potion fumes tended to make him hoarse, one reason why he spoke quietly during class.

He cast several detection charms before opening the cards and packages, some of his students thought it amusing to send him hexed or cursed mail from time to time, and even on his birthday he trusted no one save his family.

From McGonagall there was an elegant silver peregrine quill with glittering emerald ink, Pomona had given him several cuttings of a rare snowpod snapdragon plant, and Poppy a tin of Relaxing tea, her own blend. Severus's mouth twitched into a smile at the sight of it. He had never appreciated that tea until he had to sleep through the night with a fussy baby. From Filius there was a charmed vial sponge, that would wash his most delicate beakers and vials and leave them gleaming. Albus had sent him a mug filled with marshmallow snakes. On the mug were the words _Most Potente Potions Master Ever_. He rolled his eyes. _God save you, Albus! I'm sure some of my students would agree with you._

He glanced at his watch, noting that it was almost five thirty. He quickly swept the cards and sweets and gifts into an empty leather satchel beneath his desk and slung it over his shoulder. He left the office, muttering the word to activate his Anti-Theft wards as he did so. Ever since that incident in Harry's second year, when several rare ingredients had gone missing from his private stores, he had activated those wards. Anyone attempting to steal from him would literally be caught red-handed, as an alarm would sound and the thief be painted with crimson dye all over their hands, a dye that was only removable by Snape himself.

He arrived home to discover the most delicious smells pervading the air of his quarters. He sniffed deeply of the odor of cinnamon and nutmeg, mouthwatering steak and apples. He hung up his robes and frock coat upon their hooks beside the door and used a Switching spell to swap his boots for his comfortable leather slippers lined with sheepskin.

Cafall rose to greet him with his tail wagging. Severus stroked the hound's head before continuing on into the apartment, which had been expanded to include a kitchenette as well as two extra bedrooms plus several more closets. His family, including Sirius, was seated around the table.

"Happy birthday!" they all chorused and rose.

The table had been set with Slytherin patterned china and on each plate was a steak, a broiled lobster tail, a baked potato, and mixed greens with pears and gorgonzola cheese with raspberry balsamic. There were even small glasses of champagne and icy tall glasses of water and butterbeer for the children, all except for Toria.

Severus halted, feeling a bit overwhelmed, for he had never celebrated his birthday in so grand a fashion.

Toria squealed when she saw him and held out her hands. She made an odd purring type noise, which was something she did only when she saw her father.

Severus came over to hug her and kiss her small forehead. "Hello, Toria." He winced as the baby tugged his hair, and gently removed her tenacious fingers from his head. "No pulling Daddy's hair," he told her, and gave her the goblin face rattle instead.

"Come sit down, Sev. Before it gets cold." Sarai invited.

He seated himself at the head of the table. "Thank you for this. You didn't have to go through so much trouble."

"Nonsense! It's your birthday, and you deserve a special dinner," Sarai admonished.

"And dessert," Nesmay added, smiling at him.

"But first, we'll have a toast," Draco said, picking up his glass. "As the eldest son—"

"Only by a month," Harry put in.

Draco glared at him. "As the _eldest_ son, I get to make a toast." He cleared his throat. "Here's to you, Dad. May you have everything you wish for and then some. Happy birthday and many more!"

"Here, here!"

Then they all clinked glasses and drank the champagne.

"Thank you, Draco." Severus said. "Now, let us eat this fine meal."

They all dug in. Severus discovered it was one of the finest meals he had ever eaten. The steak melted in his mouth, the lobster was succulent and tender, dipped in drawn butter. The potato was cooked perfectly, and the salad was sweet and piquant, the perfect compliment to the meal.

Everyone ate until they were stuffed. Sirius pushed his plate away and sighed, he'd had seconds of the steak and lobster. "Merlin, Severus! This was incredible. Tuney can cook, but not like this. Mind if I steal Sarai from you for a week?"

Sarai started laughing. "Sirius, I didn't cook this meal. My children did."

"We had help from the house elves." Harry told them.

"It was an excellent dinner," Severus informed them.

Sarai clapped her hands and the place settings vanished, to be replaced with cups, saucers, and dessert plates and silverware. On each plate was a lovely cinnamon apple crumble with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. In the cups was Severus' favorite rich dark cocoa.

"Now _this_ I made," Sarai said. "Harry showed me how."

Severus, though he was quite full, found he still had room for a few spoonfuls of the divine apple dessert, which was one of his favorites and he drank his cocoa leisurely.

The children and Sirius, in contrast, scarfed down their portions and had seconds.

When all were finished, Nesmay announced that it was time to open the gifts. She Summoned them into the den, where Severus sat in his recliner, and floated them over to him. There were three of them.

The first was from Victoria, it was a shirt that said _I Love My Daddy_ and had her face imprinted on it.

"Aww! You should wear that to class tomorrow, Severus," Nesmay giggled.

"It wouldn't be appropriate, Nesmay. Though I shall wear it when I'm at home."

"Yeah, come on, Snape. That's not the real reason. You wouldn't wear it in school 'cause it would ruin your rep as the big bad professor," Sirius laughed. "Nobody would ever take you seriously if you came in wearing your baby on a shirt."

"I am the same person I always was, Sirius, with or without my daughter," Severus answered. He set the shirt aside and opened the next package.

That one was from Sirius, Petunia, and Dudley, and was a small travel apothecary chest, with all kinds of drawers and cubbyholes and glass vials for herbs and elixirs. Severus' eyebrows rose, for this was an extremely thoughtful and expensive gift.

"Thank you."

Sirius looked embarrassed. "Aw, I figured you could use one. Tuney wanted me to fill it, but I said that was best left to you, since you'd know what you want in it better than I would."

"It's a most thoughtful gift."

Then he opened the last present, which was a blue glass bottle of a fae cordial called shadow plum wine. A note was attached to the neck of the bottle. It read: _To celebrate with tonight! Love always, Sarai._

Sirius' eyes almost fell out of his head. "Merlin's pants, Snape! Is that what I think it is?"

"Shadow plum wine."

"I've heard stories about that stuff. Is it true that it makes you—"

"Black, there are children present!" Severus cut him off abruptly.

"Oh. Right." Sirius was blushing.

"What? What does it do?" Harry wanted to know.

"It makes one intoxicated, like all wines," replied his father smoothly.

"Among other things," Sirius snickered.

"Are we going to get to try some?" Draco asked.

"No. This is not for children, only adults." Sarai replied.

"But Dad, you hardly ever drink," Harry began.

"This once, I will indulge myself," Severus answered.

"That's good. You and Sarai can enjoy yourselves all evening," Nesmay put in. "Hope you like the peace and quiet."

"Peace and quiet? Not with Victoria around!" Sirius chuckled.

"But that's our gift to you, Dad." Harry told him. "Draco, Nesmay, and I decided to give you the gift you want most and never get—a whole night of peace and quiet with your wife. We're going to take Victoria and Professor McGonagall volunteered to have her sleep in her quarters for tonight."

"And I'm going to sleep in the Ravenclaw dorm with Luna," announced Nesmay. "So you can have the apartment all to yourselves, and get all mushy and romantic and stuff."

Severus was speechless. Finally he said, "I couldn't ask for a better present. Was this what that note was all about, Harry?"

"Yes. I asked Draco if dinner was still on at five thirty, and he reminded me to not forget the shadow plum wine, I had to pick it up from Sarai's office, she had hidden it in the desk drawer." Harry said. "When you confiscated that note and asked me about it . . . you almost ruined the surprise."

"My apologies, Harry. I should have known better. This has been a most memorable birthday."

"Well, you only turn thirty-six once, Sev." His wife said, then she kissed him.

The boys turned red and Draco said, "Uh, I think we should leave now." He went and picked up Victoria and Harry quickly grabbed Toria's overnight bag while Nesmay fetched her pillow and pajamas.

"Have a good time, you two!" Sirius called, and then all of them exited the apartment.

Severus and Sarai hardly noticed, for they had other things on their mind, and all night to celebrate the birth of a very special potions professor.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The end of January brought with it a freezing cold snap, but despite the bitterly chill weather, Sarai and some of the Hogwarts staff managed to send Petunia plenty of gifts for the new baby, they arrived by owl post as well as Muggle mail. Petunia was in her last trimester, and almost into her eight month. She was huge, as big as a barn, and Sirius said she suffered from swollen feet and ankles.

"So did I," remarked Sarai feelingly. "None of my shoes fit one morning and I was so depressed and unhappy, I threw a pair against the wall and picked a fight with Severus over something totally stupid. But he was kind enough to forgive me and make me special boots that did fit me. Tell Tuney to soak her feet in hot water with an infusion of lime, pomegranate, and chocolate."

"Say _what_?" Sirius just looked at her. He had stopped by the Defense classroom to give both teachers a heads up on Tuney's condition. "Sounds more like a dessert than something to soak in."

"Nevertheless, it works. Severus made it up for me." Sarai told him. "In fact, I may actually still have some left. Let me look in my trunk when I get home. If I do, I'll send it to her."

"Thanks, Sarai. That'll be good. I worry about her a lot, now that she's getting close. She seems more tired and irritable than usual, though I guess that's to be expected."

"I know I'd be irritable if I had to carry all that weight around," Remus said. "You remember how Lily was when she was carrying Harry, don't you, Padfoot? James teased her once about becoming fat and lazy and she smacked him in the arse with her broomstick."

"Right. And I remember laughing like crazy over it. But now . . . now I'm worried. Tuney's not so young anymore, what if something goes wrong?"

"You can't think like that, Sirius. You have to think positive." Remus stressed.

"Well, I'm concerned because she wants to have a Muggle doctor deliver her, but I don't trust Muggles to know what they're doing. I want her to go to St. Mungos and let a real Healer see to her care."

"What does Petunia say?" asked Sarai.

"She says she doesn't care if she's seen by a witch doctor as long as the baby is born healthy." Sirius answered. "Me, I want our Healers to handle it. I want the best possible care for her."

Both Sarai and Remus said they understood perfectly. "And I'm very glad I'm not a woman," Remus added with a grin.

"Yes, you have enough problems with the full moon without going through a woman's cycle," Sarai quipped impishly.

"Merlin forbid!" Remus shuddered dramatically.

"Wimp!" Sirius teased, socking his friend in the shoulder playfully.

"Speak for yourself, Padfoot," Remus grunted. "I don't see you barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen."

"A pregnant man? Bright Lady have mercy! By the second contraction, you'd be begging for a sword so you could be put out of your misery. Either that or a Draught of Endless Sleep. No, it's much better for everyone if women have the babies, we have the strength and fortitude to endure labor, and the capacity to endlessly forgive the men who made us go through such hell. If we had to rely on men, the human and fae races would have died out long ago."

"You're exaggerating," Sirius argued.

"Wrong. Just ask Severus, he was there when I delivered the twins."

"Did he pass out?" asked Sirius, snickering.

"No. But he probably longed to, so he didn't have to see our stillborn son," Sarai murmured sadly.

"Oh. Right." Sirius looked suddenly uncomfortable. "I'll see you around. I have more homework to grade. Homework sucks!" he grumbled.

"Sirius, you sound like one of your students," Remus said.

"Can I help it if they're right? I hated homework when I was in school and I hate it even more now that I have to grade it." The Animagus sighed and walked away towards his office, where piles of parchment awaited him.

In addition to the cold weather, which caused a sudden rash of colds and coughs, the winter also brought an unwelcome and unlooked for guest to Hogwarts. But the first Severus knew of it was when the Headmaster knocked on the door of his quarters one night.

Severus quickly opened the door, not wishing to wake his sleeping wife and children. When he saw Albus on the threshold he scowled. "Albus, what do you want from me at this time of the night? I've been up all night with Victoria, she's cutting a tooth, and refused to sleep until recently. Can't it wait till morning?"

"Forgive me, Severus." Albus said sincerely. He eyed his Potions Master, who looked as if he was related to a zombie, he was pale and there were deep circles beneath his eyes and his cheeks looked sunken. "But I simply had to warn you about a . . . certain visitor from the Ministry. Could you come to my office? We can talk more comfortably there."

Severus harrumphed, wanting to tell the old man they could talk comfortably after he got a good night's sleep better. "Very well." He quietly shut the door and followed Albus back up the stairs. Upon reaching the office, he sat down in one of the chairs and said, rather grumpily, "Now what harbinger of doom is coming to call that has you so upset you couldn't wait until morning to tell me about it?"

Albus heaved a great sigh, before responding, "Her name is Dolores Umbridge, and she is the UnderSecretary to the Minister of Magic. She has been campaigning for months to try and pass an Anti-Werewolf Bill and has now extended that campaign to include those of mixed human and magical being origins also. In other words, she wishes me to get rid of Remus and Sarai."

Severus' jaw clenched. "On what grounds? Being born? Or existing?"

"Both, I'm afraid. She is quite militant in her beliefs and she wishes to examine their class and others here, to make sure we are . . . ah, how did she put it?" Albus scratched his beard. "Ah . . . compliant with Ministry policies."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, the Ministry and I have never seen eye to eye on the issue of werewolf rights, and now that I've hired both a werewolf and a half-fae warrior to teach Defense . . . Dolores believes they can't be teaching the children anything good, because werewolves are no better than beasts and half-breeds are barbarians."

"What an imbecile!" Severus sneered. "I would like to get her alone for four minutes and I'd show her who was a barbarian. I sincerely hope that bill is voted down."

"As do I. But you see now why I wished to speak with you as soon as possible. She'll be arriving tomorrow to examine you and Sarai and Remus. I wanted you to be prepared."

"We will be, Albus." Severus said tightly. He rose. "If that is all, I shall be returning to the dungeons and my bed. I will tell Sarai tomorrow, and she can inform Remus. Unless you've already spoken to him?"

"No. I came to you first."

"Good night, Albus," Severus said, then he stalked from the office, his black robe billowing behind him like a pair of thestral wings.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Sarai and Remus appreciated the warning Severus gave them, but both agreed they wouldn't be intimidated by the witch.

"Our unit on identifying and defending against dark fae creatures and the Unseelie is perfectly acceptable," Remus said. "I see no reason to change it."

"Nor do I." Sarai said. "I say we should teach the lesson the same as always, and if this Umbridge takes offense . . . so be it. This is Defense Against the Dark Arts and some of those creatures are among the darkest in the universe."

"And our students need to be kept informed so they can defend themselves if need be," Remus stated firmly.

Severus also opted to keep his potions lesson unchanged, for he was not one to knuckle under to bureaucracy either, especially not with Voldemort gone and having been nominated for the Order of Merlin First Class, along with the others who had participated in the final battle in the graveyard.

Needless to say, Umbridge was not very happy with the way Severus conducted his class. She walked about with her pink kitten clipboard and cotton candy colored quill, hemming and hawing and eyeing the black caped teacher with disfavor. Her presence distracted the students brewing, which in turn irritated the hell out of Snape. There was nothing he detested more than a ruined solution due to an unforeseen distraction.

He whirled abruptly upon Umbridge and said stiffly, "Madam, will you not have a seat in the back of the classroom?"

"Ahem! Ahem! Professor Snape, how long have you been teaching?" she asked, ignoring his suggestion.

"Fourteen years," the professor answered through gritted teeth. He then spun about on his heel, his cloak almost smacking the petite pink-garbed potentate in the face. Pretending oblivion, he addressed his class. "Pay no attention to the visitor in the pink peignoir in back of me. Continue brewing your Draughts of Living Death as usual."

"Yes, Professor Snape," the students chorused, then some of them started giggling behind their hands at his sarcastic turn of phrase.

Umbridge gasped, turning a very unattractive shade of scarlet. "You . . . why . . . how dare you tell them to—to ignore me!"

"Would you rather observe or disrupt my lesson, madam?" he drawled, not at all intimidated by her hissy fit. "I was under the impression that an observer was supposed to invisible and unnoticeable, the better to assess classroom priorities and discipline. Have standards changed?"

"No—not at all, but . . .I will be treated with respect, professor!"

"Indeed, madam. I respect the office you hold," Severus said smoothly, his obsidian eyes hardening. "In turn I would ask you respect my students and not create a disturbance following me about. They are easily distracted and cannot brew properly with such a shocking hue before their eyes. Now, do sit down!"

Umbridge sputtered and coughed. "Well, I never! I am the Minister's UnderSecretary!"

"I am well aware of that. However, in my classroom, as a guest, I insist you follow my rules, which include no disrupting my students while brewing. It is no more than you would require of a visitor to the Ministry." He fixed her with one of his glacier stares.

Umbridge found herself swallowing hard and then backing away. She stumbled over her own heel and plopped down on the stool Snape had conjured for her near the potions cabinet.

"Much better. Now, let's see how many of you remembered to stir the mixture five times counterclockwise and three and a half times clockwise . . ." he resumed his walk about the room, inspecting cauldrons while Umbridge fumed in the corner like a misbehaving schoolgirl.

After her rather embarrassing time in potions, Umbridge was not minded to be fair or lenient when it came to the Defense classroom. She swept into Remus' room in high dudgeon, determined to find at least ten things wrong with the werewolf professor. She immediately had issues with his subject matter, stating that it was not Ministry approved and why would one need to learn about creatures which didn't exist in the mortal realm?

She also asked him pointed questions about his werewolf curse, asking him whether or not he considered himself safe at the turning of the full moon. When he replied that he always had a supply of Wolfsbane potion on hand thanks to Professor Snape, she looked as if she had swallowed a bitter draught of wormwood. She questioned the necessity of having two Defense teachers, asking him if he doubted his own ability to teach.

Remus told her calmly that he was better at lecturing and teaching certain spells, like the Patronus Charm, while Sarai provided a more practical experience to the students in hand-to-hand combat and battle magic.

"I have never heard of anything like having two professors for one class. Highly irregular. I shall have a word with the Minister about it." She sniffed.

"It may be irregular, but it's effective."

"Humph! I shall be inspecting your partner's class next." Umbridge declared, then she stomped next door.

Since the Defense class had not let out yet, Umbridge found Sarai setting up the room with Nesmay's help. Victoria was in her pram next to Sarai's desk in the corner. Umbridge came into the room, her beady eyes staring about. They lighted upon the baby carriage.

"Ahem! What have we here?" she walked over and peered down at Victoria.

The baby stared up at her, green eyes wide.

Umbridge gave a sickly smile. "A baby! Koochie-Koochie-Koo!" she bent to tickle Victoria under the chin.

Victoria began to scream hysterically. She had taken an instinctive dislike to the pink robed witch, and made no secret of her feelings for the stranger.

Both women whirled upon hearing the howls coming from the previously contented baby, and Nesmay sprinted over, her wand out. "Hey, lady! What are you doing to my baby sister?"

Umbridge looked up to see a purple haired girl coming towards her, and she glared at Nesmay, whom she saw had the pointed ears and amber eyes of one of the barbarian fae race. "I did nothing but look at her, and the ill-mannered brat started screeching fit to choke!"

Nesmay came to stand protectively beside Victoria's pram and eyed Umbridge up and down, not at all intimidated. "Can't say that I blame her. If a pinched-faced dried up old hag looked at me like you're doing, I'd be screaming bloody murder too." Her wand was leveled at Umbridge.

"How _dare_ you address me in such a fashion, young lady? Do you know who I am? I am the Minister of Magic's UnderSecretary, you little barbarian! It's plain you never learned any manners. A good beating would cure you of that insolent tongue, I'd wager!"

"Ha! Better than you have tried, witch," Nesmay said haughtily, giving Umbridge one of her best lady-of-the-manor glares.

"Who do you think you are?" Umbridge demanded, looking as if she were about to explode.

"She is Lady Nesmayallindra Highstar, granddaughter of Titania, Summer Queen, and monarch of the Seelie court," Sarai informed her crisply, joining them. She quickly reached down and lifted her squalling daughter from the pram and hugged her. "Shhh. 'Tis all right, sweetling. Mama's here." She turned back to Umbridge. "Nesmay is also my ward."

Umbridge's jaw dropped. "You mean to tell me that—that creature is royalty? I never would have guessed. Her manners are appalling!"

"So are yours, scaring a baby," Nesmay put in impudently. "You're lucky I didn't curse you." The air suddenly crackled with tension, and stray wisps of magic drifted up from Nesmay's hair, exploding in sparks above her head.

Umbridge stiffened, feeling the surge of magic coming from the girl. "Watch yourself, brat, or I'll have you hauled off to Azkaban, where a Dementor will mend your manners! Royalty indeed!"

"For shame, madam, threatening a child that way," Sarai reproved, her green eyes hard with disapproval. "Is this the kind of tolerance we can expect from your Ministry?"

"She is an impertinent little snip who deserves—"

"—the courtesy and respect of her rank," Sarai cut in coldly. "She is not some _creature_ to be beaten and thrown in a cage. While her remarks were disrespectful, so were yours, coming here unannounced and frightening my child, and then having the audacity to say she is an ill-mannered brat. It is normal for a baby to cry upon seeing a stranger. You cannot hold her to blame, unless you are a fool."

Umbridge gave her a scathing glance. "And who are you, to speak to me thus?"

Sarai drew herself up. "I am Lady Sarai Kinsalari Valinek Snape, former Captain of the Queen's Blades. I guarded the lives of the royal family, who are my kin. Since marrying Severus, I have accepted a teaching post here and teach Defense along with Remus Lupin. I presume you are Dolores Umbridge, who is doing evaluations for the Ministry?"

"You presume correctly," Umbridge said haughtily. "I have already seen the werewolf, your partner, and his class. I came here to observe yours and was rudely assaulted by your . . . ward." She sneered the last word and cast Nesmay a derogatory look.

"Assaulted you?" Sarai looked puzzled. "I saw her cast no spell on you."

"She had her wand pointed at me, the insolent piece of baggage," Umbridge growled. "Clearly you have been remiss in your duties, Professor Valinek, or the child would know how to treat a Ministry official with respect!"

Sarai's eyes narrowed and she looked as if she wanted to use her sword on Umbridge. "Nesmay, you owe Madam Umbridge an apology for overreacting to her presence. Please take Victoria and see if you can settle her down. The other students should be here any moment."

Nesmay took the baby and said with a sickly sweet smile, "Forgive me, madam. I am newly come from the Summer Country and sometimes 'tis hard for me to distinguish one mortal from another, there are so many of you. I but sought to protect my sister from one who might do her harm. Next time I shall remember your face and so avoid confusion."

"My face?"

"Why, yes, madam! Your chin juts out much like a shelf of fungi," Nesmay said, and gave Umbridge an ingenuous smile before turning away with Victoria, who had started to wail again upon seeing Umbridge. "Shhh, Toria. Don't worry, sweet kit, I'll protect you from any nasty hags," she crooned to the baby, speaking just loud enough to be overheard. "I can blow her away with or without a wand."

Umbridge looked as though she were about to asphyxiate. "That—that—"

Sarai bit her lip to keep from laughing uncontrollably. Nesmay had a wit to match Robin Goodfellow. "Children are so refreshingly honest, don't you think?" the arms tutor remarked, her green eyes glinting with amusement.

"Children should be silent unless spoken to!" Umbridge snapped curtly.

There came the sound of running feet outside the door.

"Madam Umbridge, if you wish to observe my lesson, might I suggest seating yourself behind my desk? Sometimes the sparring sessions can get a little . . .out of hand and it is good to be safely out of the way."

Umbridge took a seat behind the desk with a disgruntled snort.

Nesmay came and put Victoria, who was now quiet, back in her pram and told Sarai she was going to take the baby for a short walk down to the greenhouse to visit Professor Sprout.

"As you will, only make sure she is bundled up warmly."

"Yes, professor," Nesmay said obediently, only calling her by her title because they were in public. She made sure that Victoria had on her winter coat, hat, mittens, and scarf. Nesmay left just as some students entered, waving at Luna as she went by.

Several of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs stopped to say hello to them, and Victoria smiled and burbled happily.

"Wretched children!" Umbridge muttered, casting a death glare at the two Snape girls. "I hate children!"

Several of the students looked at her curiously, but most were too eager to begin their lesson to waste time paying attention to the squat pink-clad toad behind the desk.

Sarai paired them up according to each one's skill level, giving them wooden practice weapons to use. They ran through some warm up exercises, and then sparred individually.

Umbridge watched the proceedings with icy disdain, though no student was injured and they appeared to be enjoying their lesson very much.

" . . . and then this horrible hag marches into the room and scares poor Toria so bad she starts screaming bloody murder," Nesmay related the incident with Umbridge to Draco, Hermione, Harry, and Ron whom she had met coming from the greenhouse after their Herbology lesson.

"Too bad Mum didn't give the ugly bitch what for with the flat of her sword," Draco said. "I remember Lucius complaining about her once. Said she was a meddling harridan who hated half-bloods or anyone non-human."

"Huh? Why would that bother him?" Ron asked.

"Because she was forever trying to extort money for her Anti-Vampire, Werewolf, and whatever other creature campaign from the Ministry, which meant the money wasn't going to line his pockets for his secret agenda to help Moldy Heart."

"She sounds like an awful person," Hermione remarked.

Harry nodded. "I hope she doesn't try and get Lupin, Dad, or Sarai sacked."

"Could she do that?" cried Nesmay, dismayed.

"Possibly," Draco conceded. "If she has as much influence with the Minister as she claims."

"Speak of the devil!" Harry whispered, and pointed.

Umbridge was coming down the path, her pink high heels stamping out a death march.

The children quickly pulled the pram behind a hedge alongside the path, then crouched down beside it.

Umbridge went by, oblivious, muttering loudly, "They'll regret the day they ever set foot in this school! No one humiliates Dolores Umbridge and gets away with it! I'll see to it they're all sacked and never can get work again anywhere!" She growled vengefully. "Just wait till the Minister reads my reports!" She patted a small pink leather satchel slung over her shoulder.

"No!" Nesmay gasped. "Now they're in trouble! What have I done? She mustn't be allowed to hand those reports over to the Minister!"

They all looked at each other. Then Hermione pointed her wand and intoned a Switching Spell, swapping the reports in the satchel for some blank parchment she had in her own bag. "There! She can't submit blank parchment."

Umbridge continued walking past them, not even realizing what had happened.

"But she could write another report," Harry reminded her.

"True. Unless . . . she forgets about it." Draco said, his eyes turning icy cold. Then he slipped out from behind the hedge and stalked the witch.

The others watched as he crept up behind her, pointed his wand at the back of her head, and whispered something. A blue flash of light struck Umbridge in the head.

The witch halted, rubbed her forehead and muttered, "Now what on earth am I doing here? I must get back to the office."

She hurried on down to the iron gates at the school entrance.

Draco slipped his wand back up his sleeve and went back to where the others waited.

"Draco, what did you do to her?" Hermione demanded.

"Something permanent?" Harry asked.

"Very. I cast a Memory Charm on her. She won't remember anything about her visit except that it was satisfactory." Draco grinned.

"Draco, Memory Charms are illegal!" whispered Hermione.

"So's trying to sack teachers because they're werewolves and half-bloods. I'm not letting her sack my parents. Nobody hurts my family."

Ron whistled admiringly. "I have to hand it to you, Malfoy. You might be sneaky and sly, but you've got style."

Draco chuckled. "I'm a Slytherin."

"I think we should have found a bog and pushed her into it, but I guess stealing her memory worked just as well," Nesmay said.

Then they headed inside the castle for lunch, the threat of Umbridge averted forever by Draco's quick initiative and willingness to do anything to protect the family he loved.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

February brought snow and hail, the weather was terrible. Everyone remained indoors, it was so dreadful out that even Quidditch was cancelled until the weather improved. Because of the enforced confinement, students were short tempered and the prefects were kept busy mediating disputes and breaking up duels in the corridors. Points were lost and won back by those students who liked to study and complete extra credit projects.

Normally, Severus would have been unaffected by the foul weather, as he tended to spend more time brewing in the winter. But Toria was going through a very frustrating stage, teething, and she cried and drooled endlessly. Nothing Severus tried worked, and she kept everyone up all night with her sobbing. Nesmay was so sick and tired of trying to sleep with a wailing baby that she threatened to move into Luna's room permanently.

Severus was at his wits end and even Sarai's patience was starting to crack as she found that her soldier's ability to sleep through almost anything was tested to its limit. The Slytherins had cast Silencing Charms about the portrait hole and common room, so they could blot out the noise. Because of sleep deprivation and worry over his daughter, Severus was snarkier than usual, and tended to take points for the slightest disturbance caused in his class.

Katie and Harry spent extra time in the dungeons during their free period, trying to figure out a potion that would calm a teething baby, but were so far unsuccessful.

Flitwick suggested a charmed teething ring, made to freeze when a baby sucked it. That worked for a few hours, but eventually Toria tired of it and kept throwing it on the floor.

Severus was developing a migraine from all the screaming, and finally he told his wife, "I'm going for a walk outside. I just need a few minutes to clear my head and get some air. I'll be back soon, it's too cold to linger out there."

Sarai nodded wearily, rocking the fretful Victoria, who chewed on her hand and whimpered loudly. "After you come back, it's my turn." She joggled the baby and sighed. "Toria, _please_ take the teething ring." But Toria refused, grabbing the blue and purple ring and throwing it down.

Severus hurried away, muffled in his green and silver scarf and gloves, his all-weather cloak wrapped about his tall frame. He headed down the path to Hagrid's hut, figuring to stop by and visit with the gamekeeper, at least he would be out of the bitter cold and damp.

On the way there he bumped into Pomona, who had been checking on some of her hothouse plants. "Forgive me, Poppy. I'm not functioning at my best," he apologized for almost knocking her over. He put a hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn.

"Severus, you poor thing! You look as if you're about ready for your shroud. Haven't you been getting any sleep?"

He shook his head wearily. "Not with a teething baby. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since . . . I can't remember when."

"Gracious Merlin! How many teeth is she cutting?"

"It seems like two or three all at once." Severus told her what he had tried so far.

"You know, I'm a mother and grandmother many times over, and I've found that Ogden's Oral Paste works wonders. I never would have gotten through my son's teething days without it."

"Where can I find some?"

"Why, I have some in my quarters. I always keep some on hand because you never know when you'll develop a toothache. Matter of fact, I dosed Albus just last week for one, though Merlin knows if he stopped eating so many sweets he'd not need so much of it . . ." Sprout prattled. "Wait right here, Severus. I'll be back soon." She ordered as they entered the castle, going down to her quarters.

A few minutes later she returned with the jar and insisted upon accompanying Severus down to his quarters. "Your poor wife must be exhausted too, and I can watch the little imp if you'd like."

"Pomona, that really won't be necessary . . ."

"Nonsense, Severus! I can see you're about done in, now don't be foolish! You can trust me, I've raised five children and fifteen grandchildren."

Severus was too tired to argue, and simply led the way to the dungeons.

Pomona deftly applied the paste to Toria's swollen red gums, where three teeth were poking through. "There now, lamb! All better, yes?"

Toria sucked in a breath. Her anxious parents waited for the familiar scream to emerge.

Silence.

Toria sucked on her fist, looking as relieved as Severus and Sarai felt.

"That's amazing!" exclaimed Severus. "What's in it?"

"Oh, a bit of this and that. Though the main ingredient is Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey." Sprout answered.

"_Firewhiskey?_" Severus cried. "You gave my baby alcohol!"

"Well, it is a known remedy for sore teeth. My grandmother swore by it."

"I cannot believe that you would—" began an outraged Snape.

"Severus, shut up!" Sarai ordered. "It worked, didn't it? I'm sure the amount of alcohol in there is hardly enough to make Toria drunk. Look, she's sleeping." She indicated her daughter, who had put her head on Sprout's shoulder and was sleeping soundly. "Thank you, Pomona. Ignore my husband, he's so tired he's not making any sense."

"Would you like me to take her back to my quarters for an hour or two? It's no trouble, that way you can get a good nap in." Pomona offered.

"Pomona, you're a lifesaver!" exclaimed the exhausted mother. She smiled gratefully at the herbologist. "Severus, I'm going to bed. You can join me there if you've a mind to." She then walked into their bedroom and shut the door.

Pomona bid Severus a good morning, then took Toria and her baby satchel with her and departed for her quarters. Severus rubbed his eyes, then he followed his wife into the bedroom. Sleep was beckoning irresistibly and he was not fool enough to ignore its call.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"Look, Mum and Dad! Toria's crawling!" Draco announced one evening in late February. He had been playing ball with her on the rug, sitting across from her and rolling a soft plastic ball of different colors back and forth to her. On the tenth time, she had pushed the ball back and then started to reach for it as it rolled away.

She ended up on her belly, rocking back and forth, when suddenly she began to crawl after it.

Her astonished elder brother had carefully pulled the ball towards him, watching as the baby crawled eagerly across the rug.

Sarai got down on the rug and called Victoria to come to her, while Severus Summoned a camera and took a picture. "Dear sweet Merlin, she's mobile." He said. He felt ridiculously proud and dreadfully nervous at the same time.

"Uh oh. There goes the school," Harry snickered, picturing the havoc a crawling Toria could make. But he too watched his little sister with pride.

_One week later:_

"Kee! Kee!" Victoria Snape yelled as she scuttled across the plaid tartan after the spectacled tabby.

It was Minerva's turn to babysit the energetic infant, allowing her parents to have a night off and dinner at Hogsmeade. The Transfiguration teacher soon discovered that Toria was much easier to occupy and keep up with in her Animagus form, and so she had spent half the night as a cat.

As a cat, she had more energy than as an eighty-four-year-old witch, and was able to provide the little girl with a fun moving object to chase. The mackerel tabby would trot ahead of the baby, waving her tail, and Toria would squeal and pursue as fast as her chubby legs and arms could carry her.

"Kee!" Victoria shrilled, trying to say "kitty". She reached for the cat's tail.

Minerva swished it away in the nick of time, purring in amusement.

Victoria clapped her hands and laughed, sitting down and eyeing the smug cat thoughtfully.

The tabby returned and rubbed herself along the baby's face, her tail tip brushing Toria's nose teasingly.

"Kee!" Toria giggled. "Mau!" she cried, sounding remarkably like a cat meowing.

McGonagall meowed back at her. Then she prepared to leap away, twitching her tail as she crouched.

Just then the Floo flared and Albus stepped through. "Minerva, I need to borrow—" he began, glancing around. He spotted Victoria right off, and then his eyes saw the spectacled tabby, frozen in mid-spring. "Why, Min, are you having fun playing with Victoria?"

Minerva transformed just as Victoria grasped her tail. "Albus! I-I wasna expecting company!" she gasped, flushing at being caught playing in her other form. Embarrassment was written all over her.

"You looked like you were having a grand old time," chuckled the Headmaster. "I'm sorry to barge in, but I've run out of tea and was wondering if you happened to have some?"

"I believe so. Let me look." McGonagall hurried over to her small pantry to find the tea tin.

"Hello, Toria!" Dumbledore greeted. He knelt and Toria rapidly crawled over to him and tried to pull herself up on his knee. "My, look at how big you've gotten!" He picked her up and put her on his knee. Then he winced as she tugged on his beard. "Ouch! Here, let Grandpa Al give you something better to eat." He dug into his pocket and handed her a large sugar cube. "Try that. And don't tell your daddy! It'll be our secret."

Toria crammed half the sugar cube in her mouth. "Mmm!"

"Albus, Severus would make all your sweets disappear if he ever saw what you just did," Minerva scolded, standing behind him with the tea tin in her hand.

"But Min, she loves it! Look at her. There's no harm in a little sugar cube. Besides, what Severus doesn't know won't hurt him." Albus said, his eyes twinkling like a naughty schoolboy's.

Minerva tisked. "You are such a troublemaker, old man! You had better hope Severus never catches you." Then she handed him the tea tin.

"I'm her Grandpa, Minerva. And all grandfathers spoil their grandchildren," Albus told her. "Next time I'll bring you a cupcake," he whispered to Victoria. "Or maybe some Ice Mice."

"Scat, you old reprobate!" Minerva ordered, laughing. She took the baby from him and said, "Say bye to Grandpa, Toria. Bye bye!"

"Bye!" Toria waved as Albus Flooed away, still sucking on the sugar cube.

Of course, after Albus' visit, and the sweets, Victoria was not inclined to take a nap. In fact, she was more energetic than ever, making poor Minerva run her paws off to tire her out. By the time the little imp fell asleep, Minerva was ready to Transfigure Albus' lemon drop stash into dried prunes and stuff them down his throat.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_March 5th, 1996:_

"So, Sirius, are you getting cold feet yet?" inquired Remus playfully at breakfast one morning. "Petunia's getting close to her due date, isn't she, old dog?"

Sirius nodded. "Yup. Supposedly that Muggle Healer of hers told her she could go any time around March twentieth. But what do they know? I don't trust them. I told Tuney that I'd rather her deliver at St. Mungos, with potions and spells, rather than some crazy Muggle that uses cameras or something to look inside her. Matter of fact, I'd deliver my baby myself, instead of let her Healer do it."

Severus slanted him a wry look. "Black, please. Do you have any idea what it's like watching your wife deliver a baby? It takes hours and she's in excruciating pain for most of it, until they give her the painblocking spell. It's not all neat and tidy like they make it look in the textbooks or in a show. It's messy, there's blood everywhere, including on the baby."

"Blood?" Sirius looked alarmed. "How come?"

"There just is," Severus answered. "If you don't have a strong stomach, do yourself a favor and stay away from Petunia."

"Are you saying I'm a pansy? That I faint at the sight of blood?" Sirius said indignantly.

"I wouldn't know. Do you?"

Sirius bristled. "Like hell! I can see buckets of blood and not even get queasy. Why, did _you_ faint when Victoria was born?"

"No. I had no time to indulge myself, I was trying to save my son," Severus said, his voice harsh.

Sirius sobered. "Oh. Well, you needn't worry about me fainting. I'm going to be beside Tuney all the way through, holding her hand."

"Let me know afterwards if you have any feeling in it," Snape quipped.

"Are you still hoping for a boy?" asked Flitwick.

"Yes. And I'm going to name him Orion Regulus, after my father and brother."

"I pray you have a child just like you, Sirius," Severus said slyly.

Remus burst out laughing. "Oh, Merlin! What irony that would be. Oh! God help us all!"

"Go on and laugh, Remus. You're going to be babysitting your godson a lot." Sirius threatened. "This afternoon I have to go to a class, a Lamaze class, so I can coach Petunia through her labor." Sirius said.

Severus shook his head when the eager father rose and left the staff table. Sirius was woefully unprepared on how to take care of a baby. But he'd learn soon enough.

"Severus, you look positively gleeful," remarked Remus. "What's got you in such a good mood? Is it something to do with your daughter?"

"Not this time. While my daughter amazes me everyday, in this case I cannot wait to see how our History of Magic teacher handles watching a baby get born. I'd wager five Galleons he faints dead away."

"I'll take that bet, and say he won't faint until his baby is born." Remus countered.

Severus clasped the werewolf's hand, thinking that Lupin was going to be mighty surprised when his godchild was born.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

" . . . and then Godric Gryffindor challenged the newcomer to a duel. He yelled, 'Have at you, varlet!' and cast a Whirlwind hex—" Sirius told his class of sixth years. They were studying the Founding of Hogwarts, and discussing the various problems the Founders had with getting other wizards to accept the idea of a school for young wizards. The duel Sirius was telling about had been a rather famous one between Godric and a wizard known as Bloodsong, a haughty pureblood who enjoyed hurting his apprentices.

"What's a varlet?" asked Angelina, raising her hand.

"Ah . . . that's an old fashioned word for a rascal, somebody who was a dirtbag." Sirius explained. He was seated on the edge of his desk, gesturing at the illusionary illustration of the duel on his chalkboard. "It's an insult. You see, Bloodsong was a total git—"

Sirius' lecture was interrupted by the tapping of an owl outside the door. He looked up, frowning. "What in Merlin's name?"

Katie rose and opened the door, letting the owl into the classroom.

It flew straight to Sirius and delivered a small envelope. Sirius looked at it and immediately tore it open. It was a short note from Petunia. Sirius turned the color of old cottage cheese. "Bloody hell!"

"Professor Black, is something the matter?" asked Katie, concerned.

"I need to speak to the Headmaster right away. My wife is in labor. At least she thinks so." Sirius said. "Uh . . . read over chapter twelve and do the questions on page 295. Class dismissed! Excuse me!" He bolted out of the classroom, shifting into his dog form once he was in the hallway.

He raced swiftly down the stairs and shifted back at the gargoyle statue. "Pumpkin pasties!" he yelled at the statue. "Open up, it's an emergency, you dumb lump of stone!"

The gargoyle slid aside and Sirius darted up the stairs.

Dumbledore looked up from his afternoon tea as Sirius burst into the room. "Sirius? Is something wrong?"

"No! Yes! Tuney's in labor . . . sent me a note . . . I have to go home . . . bring her to the hospital!"

"Calm down, my boy." Dumbledore soothed. "Are you connected to the Floo Network?"

"Yes!" Sirius skidded to a halt in front of the fireplace. "Mind if I use this?"

"Not at all."

Sirius tossed down the Floo Powder and cried, "Black residence, Sylvan Lane."

That was the address of the new home he had purchased after selling Grimmauld Place, since he refused to live in the ancestral home where he had been so miserable.

He vanished through the flames.

A moment later, his head reappeared in the fire. "Albus, can I ask you a favor? Petunia said she's not entirely sure she's in labor yet, but I don't want her to be home by herself. Dudley's over at a friend's house. Can you remove the Muggle Repelling wards so I can bring Petunia here?"

"Of course, my boy. Give me a minute." Albus made a few passes with his wand and muttered a phrase in Latin. "They're down, come on through."

Sirius withdrew.

Then the fire flared green again and this time Sirius and a very pregnant Petunia came through. Petunia was leaning heavily on her husband's arm. She glanced curiously about the office, panting.

"Oh, do forgive me, Headmaster!" she said, grimacing. "It's just . . . I didn't want to be alone when . . . oh, dear!" She put a hand to the small of her back. "I think I need to sit down."

"Here." Sirius helped her into an upholstered chair.

"Hello, Petunia. I'm Albus Dumbledore," he greeted her, shaking her hand.

"Very pleased to meet you." She took his hand, gripping it tightly as another contraction commenced.

Albus winced. "My pleasure." He pulled hard, trying to free his hand from her grip. "Would you mind . . .?"

"Oh! I apologize!" Petunia blushed and released his hand. "Sirius, get over here and let me grab your hand."

Sirius obeyed. "Are the contractions coming faster?"

"I . . . I think so. Ahh! That was a big one!" Petunia said, her face screwed up in pain.

"I think we should get you to St. Mungos," Sirius said worriedly.

"I . . . ahh . . . don't think we . . . have time!" Petunia panted, grimacing. She doubled over as the pains suddenly attacked her.

"Don't have time?" Sirius yelped. "What do you mean?"

"What . . . I . . . said! Are you deaf!" shrieked his wife.

"Sirius, we should get her to Madam Pomfrey," Albus suggested.

"Has she ever delivered a baby?"

"Yes, I believe so." Albus said.

"Fine, we'll Floo to the Hospital Wing."

Albus put a hand on his arm and said, "You can't, Sirius. Not when she's contracting so much. It could harm the baby."

"Oh, Godric's fingernails! Tuney, can you walk?"

Before Petunia could reply, there came a knock on the door.

"Severus!" Albus called as the door opened. "You're just in time to join the party."

Severus entered to see Albus, Sirius, and Petunia all in front of the Headmaster's desk.

"My having a baby is _not_ a party!" Petunia groaned.

"She's in labor?" queried Severus.

"Obviously, Snape!" snapped Petunia.

"We need to get her to the Hospital Wing," Sirius cried, looking as if he were about to panic. "Help us!"

Severus quickly offered his arm to Petunia, who took it and clung like a creeper vine. "Easy. How far apart are the contractions?"

"I . . . think about . . . seven minutes . . ." Petunia answered. "Why . . . do you want to know?"

"Because then I can determine if you can walk down or need a stretcher," answered Severus smoothly. "Seven minutes . . . you can walk. It'll be better for you. Healer Auriane made Sarai walk before she delivered."

"Whatever, Snape! Just get me there!"

Together, the two professors supported Petunia as they walked down the stairs from the Headmaster's office. Then they walked up three flights of stairs to the Hospital Wing on the third floor. Petunia was red-faced and gritting her teeth when they finally arrived at Poppy's domain.

"Severus, you sadist!" she cried. "My legs feel like Jello!"

Severus ignored her complaints, just helped her to the nearest bed.

Sirius bellowed for Poppy, who emerged from her office as if she'd been set afire.

"Hurry! Tuney's having a baby!"

"Asclepius' staff!" gasped the mediwitch. "Has her water broken?"

"Uh . . ." Sirius looked at Petunia.

Suddenly there was a gush of fluid that soaked the sheets. "It has now," groaned the mother-to-be.

Sirius looked panicked. "What's happening?"

"Your child is being born," Poppy said crisply. "Move back so I can examine her."

She began waving her wand over Petunia, chanting several spells.

Severus eyed Sirius, who was pale as new snow. "Black, this is only the beginning."

"Severus! Please . . . get Sarai!" Petunia cried, as another contraction gripped her fast. She nearly crushed Sirius' fingers. "Where's this magical pain reliever you promised me?"

"I don't know, Tuney! Oww!"

"You can only have that when you're fully dilated." Poppy told her. "You're almost there, though."

Severus Flooed back to his quarters; he found Sarai giving Victoria a bath. After explaining that Petunia was in labor here at Hogwarts and her request, Sarai quickly departed. Severus was left to finish bathing and giving Victoria her afternoon snack before putting her down for a nap.

"In a few more hours you're going to have a new cousin," he told his daughter, who fussed briefly before settling against his shoulder. She clutched her favorite toy, Lady Snapdragon, the rag doll Severus had made for her, which she always slept with.

Toria yawned and then her eyes closed. Severus kissed her forehead before putting her in the nursery. He had just closed the door after setting a Monitoring Charm when Harry, Nesmay, and Draco entered the suite.

"Dad, Katie told me that Sirius cancelled his class because Aunt Petunia was in labor." Harry called.

"Hush! Your sister's asleep," Severus scolded softly. "Yes, that's true. Your aunt is here, and she's going to deliver the baby at Hogwarts."

"Here? Not at St. Mungos?"

"Yes. Pay attention, Harry."

"So when will the baby be born?" asked Nesmay.

"I honestly don't know. Every baby is different. We shall simply have to wait and see. Your mother is with her, I'm sure Sarai will tell us when the baby is born."

"Where's Dudley?" Harry wondered.

"I don't know that either, save that he isn't here." Severus shrugged. "Perhaps he's in school."

Harry wondered if he knew that Petunia was having the baby. He decided to write his cousin a note and deliver it via the Floo Network, just in case Sirius hadn't told Dudley. He pulled out a piece of parchment, quill, and ink and began to write rapidly.

"What are you doing, Harry?" asked Draco after watching Harry send the note.

"Sending a note to Dudley, in case Sirius forgot to tell him about his mum." Harry answered.

"A good idea, Harry," said his father approvingly. "You're thinking more clearly than your godfather."

"Well, it's not my wife having a baby," Harry replied. "I'm going to go and study in the library with Katie."

"Me too, with Hermione," added Draco. "Nesmay, come find us when the baby comes."

The half-fae girl scowled. "Do I look like your personal messenger?"

"You'll know before we will," Draco argued. "So do us a favor, all right?"

"Fine!" she sounded very annoyed. Then she pulled out her charms text and flopped over on the sofa.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Six hours later, Sarai returned to the Snape apartments. "Petunia was safely delivered about ten minutes ago," she told her husband and daughters.

"What did she have?" asked Nesmay.

"You'll find out when you see them," Sarais smiled. "Where are your brothers?"

"Studying in the library with their girlfriends." Nesmay answered. "Or so they say. I'll go get them."

She dashed out the door.

Toria gazed after her. "Neyney bye?" she called forlornly, waving.

"She'll be back soon," Severus reassured her, picking her up from her quilt.

"Dada bye?"

"Yes, we will all go bye in a few minutes," he told her. She squirmed and held her arms out to Sarai.

"Mama!"

Sarai lifted her baby from Severus' arms. "You have a new baby cousin to play with, Toria."

Her daughter gave her a huge smile.

When the rest of the Snape brood arrived, they all headed to the Hospital Wing.

They entered to find Petunia sitting up in bed, cradling a tiny green and yellow wrapped bundle in her arms. Seated next to her was Sirius, beaming proudly. On Petunia's other side was Dudley and Remus.

Harry approached shyly, noting that his aunt looked tired, but otherwise all right. Her arms cradled a tiny red-faced infant. "Hi, Aunt Petunia."

"Hello, Harry. Come and meet your new cousin, Lyra Delphinia Black."

"That's a pretty name," Harry said, leaning over to see the little girl. "Guess you got your wish, huh?"

"She's a fine healthy girl," Sirius said proudly. "We named her after both our families. Lyra is the constellation of the lyre, and Delphinia after the delphinium flower."

"That fits, because she's a Black and an Evans," Draco said, knowing about the tradition of naming a Black child after a star or heavenly body and the Evans custom of naming a girl after a flower.

"She's beautiful!" Nesmay said, smiling down at the baby.

"Yes, she is," agreed Severus, leaning over to stroke the baby's cheek. "Welcome to the family, little Lyra."

Victoria stared at her small cousin, her green eyes wide. Lyra opened her blue eyes and looked back at her. It seemed as though a kind of understanding passed between them.

Remus whistled. "Better watch out, because those two are going to be mischief incarnate." He poked Sirius playfully in the ribs. "You'd better not faint when you're watching them, Padfoot."

"Aw, hush your mouth, Moony!"

Severus eyed Sirius. "Did I hear correctly? You _fainted_, Sirius?"

Sirius clamped his mouth shut, looking at the floor.

"He passed out cold on the floor just after the head was crowning," Poppy said. "Typical new father."

Severus smirked. "Then it's a good thing you weren't delivering the baby, Black." He looked over at Remus. _So much for the famed Gryffindor courage. _"I believe you owe me five Galleons, Lupin."

Remus handed over the money.

"Moony, you bet that sneaky snake five Galleons?" cried Sirius, dismayed.

Remus spread his hands out. "I didn't think you'd pass out until she was born."

Sirius lifted his head and glared sourly at Severus. "Ah, quit smirking, Snape! Next time I'll do better."

"_Next_ time?" Petunia said. "And what makes you think there'll _be_ a next time, Sirius? I was almost too old to have this baby, and if you think I'm having another just so you can prove your manhood in some ridiculous contest, think again!"

"Yes, dear," Sirius said meekly, knowing this was one argument he couldn't win. Then he leaned over and kissed his wife. "This little lady is enough for me." He grinned ridiculously at his new baby, utterly besotted with her, like many a father before him.

All the adults cast knowing glances at each other. Severus tucked his newly won Galleons away and smirked evilly.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Two months later, most of the students were preparing for finals. Draco had spent the better part of Friday morning after his Care of Magical Creatures studying for his OWLS along with his brother, Hermione, and Ron. When he had arrived back at the Slytherin common room, he found Astoria and Daphne Greengrass and Millie Bulstrode watching Victoria. The girls were playing dress up again with eight month old, having produced a princess gown from Merlin knew where, and a tiny plastic tiara and a scepter. All of them had Transfigured their robes into medieval court gowns as well, and were having tea and cakes, a royal picnic, on the floor. Astoria was playing a clapping game with his sister, singing about baking a cake.

"What's all this, a party? How come you didn't invite me?" he asked, chuckling.

His sister looked up. "'Raco! Pwetty!" She grinned and clapped her hands.

Draco knelt beside her. "Toria, how many times do I have to tell you? Boys aren't pretty, they're handsome."

She shook her little head with its wealth of dark curls firmly. "Pwetty!" She pointed to herself.

"Oh. You mean _you're_ pretty," he corrected himself. "You're the prettiest girl here, baby doll."

"That's why she's the princess," Astoria said.

Draco smirked. "Has she been behaving for you?"

"Of course," Millie replied. "Tea? A chocolate cake?" she indicated the tray on the table.

Draco helped himself to both and sat down on the sofa. He began to discuss his upcoming OWLS with the girls. Both Millie and Astoria were taking them this year and Daphne had them next year. None of them were paying attention to Victoria, who wanted another cake.

Not minded to wait, the independent little minx crawled to the table and pulled herself up to a standing position. She had been doing that for a month now, taking small steps holding on. She reached the tray and grabbed a cake, then turned about, ready to return to her spot on the floor. Only she couldn't crawl with the cake in her hand. Frowning in concentration, she took two steps towards Astoria without holding onto anything. Then she lost her balance and plopped down on her bottom.

" . . .never been my best subject . . ." Draco was saying when he saw his baby sister walking. "Holy Merlin, Victoria! You're . . . walking!"

The girls all stared at the baby, who was sitting down, eating the cake.

"Huh? She's not walking, Draco. She's eating and making a mess," Millie said.

"She was. For about two steps." Draco argued.

The girls teased him, saying he was seeing things.

There came a loud knock on the door and Harry called, "Hey, Draco! Want to play Quidditch with me and Katie?"

"And me!" Nesmay called.

Draco quickly ran to the portrait hole and opened it. "Get in here, hurry! Victoria's walking!"

"What?" Harry looked stunned.

"Let me see!" Nesmay squealed, and pushed past them.

"When did that happen?" Katie asked.

"Just now. She took two steps and sat down." Draco said.

All of them hurried over to where Toria was sitting, getting frosting all over herself. Nesmay withdrew a handkerchief from her pocket and began wiping Victoria' face. "Goodness, you're a mess! Stay still!"

"Aw, leave off, Ness. She's all right. I want to see if she'll walk again," Draco said. He grabbed another frosted cake and crouched a few feet away. "Toria! Want some more?"

"More!" Toria squeaked, then tried to stand.

Harry took her hands and helped her. "Go on. Walk to Draco. Go get him!" he urged her.

The baby took one step as he held her hands, then another.

He let go.

"Come here, Toria!" Draco called. He held out the cake.

She took three steps before tripping and falling.

"Whoops!" Harry grabbed her before she could hit the floor. "That was great! You walked! All by yourself!"

Everyone clapped, and Victoria smiled.

"Put her down, Harry. Let her do it again." Katie said.

Harry did.

This time she reached Draco and got a big hug and the cake for a reward.

"I can't believe she's walking already!" Katie said.

"That's 'cause she's a Snape," cheered Harry.

"We have to show Dad and Mum," Draco said enthusiastically.

"But Draco, Severus is teaching. You know he doesn't like to be interrupted and the fumes are dangerous for a baby," Nesmay reminded him. "And Sarai's practicing _kin-sa-dor_ in the Room of Requirement."

Draco's face fell.

"Don't worry, that just means we can practice with her some more." Harry said. "And surprise them at supper tonight."

Everyone agreed that would be a good plan. But first they cleaned up the baby and Nesmay insisted she take a nap. "Otherwise she'll be monstrously cranky and not want to listen to us."

The other Slytherins agreed, because a cranky Victoria was almost as bad as her father when he was in a snit. Harry did the honors of putting her to sleep, because Toria never fought him.

Two hours later, the Slytherins and the Snape siblings were gathered in Severus' quarters, encouraging their pint-sized prodigy to walk more.

Luckily, Severus' last class coincided with supper, and so did Sarai's third workout. After they were done, the two professors headed directly to the hall for supper, and sat down at the staff table. The House Heads and Albus were already there and some of the students had come early as well and were sitting down at the tables. Remus was there, though Sirius was absent, having gone home to visit with Petunia, Dudley, and Lyra.

Harry, Draco, and Nesmay entered the hall with Victoria as well as the Slytherin girls and Katie. The girls all went to sit at their House tables, giving the Snape children the floor. The four siblings headed for the staff table.

"Now what are they up to?" Severus mused.

"They look like children on a mission," Sarai observed.

Draco and Nesmay hurried over to their parents. Together they dragged the two adults out from behind the table and had them stand in front of the podium on the floor. "It's a surprise, Dad! Watch and see!" Draco said.

"A surprise? As in a prank, Mr. Malfoy?" demanded Severus suspiciously. He didn't think his children would dare to prank him in public, but one never knew . . .

"No. It's better than a prank," Nesmay said, grinning. She was standing to one side of Sarai, with Draco next to Severus.

Harry approached with Victoria, who had already begun to squirm to be put down. Victoria was wearing a tiny replica of Slytherin robes and black boots, looking like a mini student. Harry couldn't restrain himself, and grinned like an idiot as he set her down and clasped her hands. "Ready, Toria? Let's show Daddy and Mama how well you walk."

He steadied the infant as she took her first cautious steps gripping his hands. Once she had a good enough momentum, he let her go.

Severus' eyes widened as he saw his youngest take one, two, three, four steps towards him.

"Sev, our baby's walking!" Sarai cried, her hand over her mouth, overcome.

Severus found that he could not speak, he was so shocked. But he knelt and held out his arms.

"Daddy!"

Victoria walked into them, tripping on the sixth step and falling against him.

Severus swept her up into his arms and stood up. His heart was filled to overflowing with pride and joy so great that he found the only way he could express it was by smiling, not his usual smirk or a crooked half-smile, but an honest to goodness grin . It was something that the students and staff would never forget, for Severus Snape had a beautiful smile. It transformed him from stern snarky professor to a loving father and husband, showing everyone the hidden side of the Heir to Prince Manor at long last.

As he turned towards the staff table, his emotions naked upon his face, surrounded by his family, a smattering of applause followed him, an accolade long overdue, for the spy who had risked all for an unlooked for reward—the love of a family, which was the true legacy of Prince Manor.

**A/N: Don't worry, there's still the epilogue (like another small chapter) still to come! In part of it, Harry is having trouble deciding on a career. Please help him, and me, by giving me suggestions. Oh and of course let me know how you liked this chapter! Thank you! Happy holidays to all!**


	78. Epilogue: Bedknobs and Broomsticks

**78**

**Epilogue: **

**Bedknobs and Broomsticks**

_Two years later:_

_June 24th, 1998:_

"I can't believe that after tomorrow, we're done with school," Ron said. "It seems like only yesterday we were all boarding the train to come to Hogwarts."

"Tell me about it," Hermione smiled nostalgically, leaning back against the trunk of weeping willow that jutted out over the lake.

She and several friends, including her fiancée Draco, were gathered out by the Black Lake for one last picnic on the grounds.

"So, have you received your contract yet, Weasley?" asked Draco, lying down with his head in Hermione's lap.

"The Chudley Cannons' manager said he's going to owl me this week. I can't wait," Ron was grinning from ear to ear. "I still can't believe they signed me as Keeper."

"I'm glad you have a job that you can be happy in, Ron," said Hermione sincerely.

"You said it. This is like, my dream job. It sure beats working at the Ministry like my dad for years on end. The pay's terrible and the hours suck."

"But someone has to do jobs like that, in order to keep the government working," Katie reminded him.

"True, I'm just glad it's not me. Let Percy be chained to a desk at the mercy of the Minister or whoever." Ron said firmly. "Me, I'm going to be flying high and listening to the roar of the crowd and raking in the Galleons. On a year's salary alone I'll be able to help Mum and Dad renovate the Burrow."

"That's good, Ron. Your parents deserve to live in a place where the roof doesn't leak," Draco remarked, then winced as Hermione smacked him on the ear.

"Draco!" she hissed, glaring down at him.

"Sorry, that didn't come out right," the Slytherin apologized. "What I meant was—"

"It's okay. I know what you meant," Ron waved off the apology, not wanting to quarrel on his last picnic at Hogwarts. "So, Malfoy . . . what are you going to be doing once you finish school?"

"Well, I'm going to be working for Ollivander, as his official apprentice wandmaker. In seven years I'll be a master and maybe open up my own shop. When I'm not learning about crafting wands, I'm going to be trying to clean up Malfoy Manor."

Katie looked puzzled. "Clean it up? But I thought you had house elves for that kind of thing."

"He means he's going to cleanse the place of evil influences," Hermione explained.

"You see, Lucius and Narcissa trafficked in a lot of dark objects and filled the manor with them and some nasty traps and curses. So now that I've come into my inheritance, I've decided to purge the manor of everything dark, and make it into a place that's fit to live in when 'Mione and I get married next year." He gave his intended a sweet smile.

"And I'll be helping him, once the summer comes," Hermione informed them, smiling back at her beloved. "Dumbledore's hired me to be the new Arithmancy teacher, since Professor Vector's retiring."

"That's great, 'Mione!" Harry said. "But are you sure you want to teach a bunch of troublemaking brats?"

"I know how to keep them in line, Harry. I learned from the best—your dad and Sarai," Hermione laughed. "I'm surprised you aren't assisting your father with his classes."

Harry sighed. "Well, I thought about becoming a potions professor. But I think there are enough teachers in my family. Between my parents, Sirius, and Uncle Remus, we've got all the bases covered. Even Aunt Petunia used to teach. That's why Dudley said he'd rather be a police officer, and is going to the Academy next September."

"_Dudley's_ going to be a police officer?" Draco gaped. "The kid that stole a runespoor egg? What irony!"

"Well, you never know. He might be a good corrections officer or something." Harry said, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. "Besides, Dad has Katie to be his adjunct. I've been thinking long and hard about what I want to do once I'm done with school."

"With your NEWTS scores, you could be anything you wanted, love," Katie said, hugging him.

"What did you decide, little brother?" asked Draco.

"I've decided to become a pediatric Healer," Harry announced. "I know it'll mean more studying and classes, but in the end it'll be worth it. I really like helping kids and being a Healer will allow me to brew potions and work with children without having to be inside a classroom."

"That's brilliant, Harry!" Katie grinned, then she kissed her dark-haired fiancée passionately.

"Ahem! Uh, there are children still here, you know," said a familiar voice from behind them. "You really need to restrain yourselves, lovebirds. My virgin eyes!"

"Nesmay, shut up!" Harry ordered, flushing. "Your virgin eyes have seen worse than this. What about that time last summer you walked in on Mother and Dad without knocking?"

"_Harry!_" Nesmay cried, going crimson. "Did you _have_ to bring that up?"

"Of course he did. He's your older brother," Katie said, rolling her eyes. "Be nice!" She poked Harry in the ribs.

Nesmay pretended to be brushing some nonexistent dust off her robes, which bore the blue trim and sigil of a Ravenclaw. It had been a shock for some when Nesmay was Sorted into the House of Eagles, the Hat had taken a long time to determine where she belonged, it had almost placed her in Hufflepuff or Slytherin, but after a rather long debate, had said she belonged with those who were intelligent, yet stubborn enough to go their own way, though he loyalty and cunning were commendable. Nesmay had been relieved not to have been placed in Slytherin, for though it was her guardian's House, and she loved and respected him, it was also the House of her blood father, and the less she was associated with him the better. No one knew, save her family, Luna, and Ginny, about her true parentage, she knew it would only cause heartache for everyone if it ever revealed.

"You show him who's boss, Katie!" laughed his younger sibling.

Harry gave her a Snape glare. "Watch it, Ness. Or else I'll tell Dad that you're planning on getting a tattoo."

"Don't be a killjoy, Harry!" Nesmay scowled. "You know he'll kill me if he knew."

"I don't understand why you want one," Harry muttered.

Nesmay's mouth firmed. "I just do. It's only a small one, right on my ankle, of a raven. _Athair_ doesn't understand that it's a mark of individuality, not servitude." She said, using the fae word for heart-father. It had taken her over two years to finally feel comfortable addressing both her foster parents in a more intimate manner, but once she had been accepted to Hogwarts, she had finally felt confident enough to express her love and respect for them by calling them the fae words for heart-mother and father.

"Well, you can't exactly blame him, all things considered," Draco reminded her. "Why can't you just wait till you're of age and move out? Then he won't be able to ground your arse forever."

Nesmay tossed her head, making her hair fly back over her shoulders. She had stopped spiking it a month ago, deciding it looked more mature as her natural color, a deep golden brown, and had let it grow out. The new style made her resemblance to her mother Aislinn even more pronounced. "Where's the fun in that? I mean, aren't teenage daughters _supposed_ to drive their fathers crazy?"

"I guess it _is_ a Snape family tradition." Harry agreed, smirking.

"Your poor dad!" Hermione said. "He's going to have white hair before he ever sees his first grandchild."

"Looks like Nesmay isn't the only Snape daughter continuing that tradition," Ron pointed out.

"What are you talking about?" Nesmay asked, giving the redhead a sharp look.

"Take a look at who's flying all by herself over there," Ron pointed to where a small dark-haired little girl was flying a school broom over the Quidditch pitch.

"Bloody hell! Toria!" Draco yelled. "What does she think she's _doing_?"

"Flying," Harry stated the obvious, rolling his eyes. "Stay here. I'll get her." He rose to his feet.

"Crazy little imp! She's not even three and she thinks she can fly by herself?" Draco was growling. "Harry, you ought to tan her arse for scaring us half to death! She could have fallen off."

"That's Dad's job, not mine," his brother called over his shoulder. "Besides, we did much the same thing once upon a time, big brother."

"What's that matter?" Draco swore.

Harry hurried over to where he had placed his Firebolt and hopped on it. He soared into the air, moving gracefully until he was alongside his small sister. "Hey, Victoria! Why are you up on a broom by yourself? You know Dad's rule."

His intrepid sister turned to gaze at him out of her bright green eyes. "Hi, Harry! I'm flying like you, 'cause I'm a big girl."

"Not big enough to fly by yourself, without me, or Draco, or Dad," Harry reprimanded, trying to be stern. Draco was much better at that than he was. "You know what Dad would say if he ever caught you doing this, don't you?"

She pouted, her lower lip sticking out adorably. "Uh huh. He'd tell me I was in big trouble."

"Yes, and he'd probably turn you over his knee too, Victoria Snape."

Her face crumpled as she realized the severity of her crime. "You won't tell him, will you, Harry? I don't wanna get a spanking!" Tears hovered in her eyes. She had only been spanked once before, for snitching her father's wand and almost causing a fire. But she definitely didn't want a repeat punishment.

Harry, never able to resist those pitiful puppy-dog eyes, sighed. "All right. But don't ever do this again, understand? You could get seriously hurt flying all by yourself."

"How?"

"By falling off and breaking your arm, or your leg, or your neck." He guided his broom right next to hers. "Come here. You can fly with me." He plucked her off her broom and put her in front of him, holding her firmly.

She squirmed a bit. "Aww, but _Harry_ . . .!"

"No excuses, young lady. You fly with a grown-up or not at all. Or else!" he scolded.

"Okay," she agreed. She had her rag doll, Lady Snapedragon tucked in the pocket of her jacket. She turned and hugged her brother, saying repentantly, "M'sorry I was bad, Harry. I'll be good."

"Promise?"

"Pwomise," she lisped. While she was extremely advanced for her age, and talked very well, there were still some words she mispronounced.

"Where'd you get that broom anyhow?"

"The broom shed, silly!" she answered, rolling her eyes in a dead on imitation of their father.

"That should have been locked."

Victoria shrugged. "It was open."

Her brother mumbled something about irresponsible Quidditch Captains who ought to lose fifty points, then continued flying around the lake.

"I wanna dive, Harry. Please! _Please_?" Toria begged shamelessly.

"You were very naughty. So I shouldn't do anything that's really fun with you," her brother mused.

"I said I was sorry." Toria snuffled.

"Fine. One dive. That's all. Then you go and apologize to Draco for scaring him."

"Why's Draco scared?"

"Because you could have fallen and broken your neck," Harry reiterated. He wasn't sure his baby sister quite understood the dangers of flying alone. "Hold on," he warned, then he pointed the Firebolt downwards and dove.

"Wheee!" Victoria shrieked in glee.

Harry did not fly as fast as he did during a game, but it was still very thrilling to a two-and-a-half year old to fly at over seventy miles an hour. He pulled up just before they would have crashed into the lake, skimming the surface of the water before soaring back up into the sky.

Harry was laughing, for he loved flying at those speeds. "How was that?"

"Yay! It was so fun!" Victoria was grinning. "Wasn't it, Lady Snapedragon?" she reached inside her pocket for her doll.

Only to discover it was missing.

"No-o-o!" she wailed.

"What's wrong?"

"Lady Snapdragon's gone!" sobbed Victoria. "She fell out and drowned!" She burst into noisy tears.

Harry winced. He knew how much the doll meant to his sister, it was her favorite toy and had been ever since she was an infant. "Don't cry, Toria. I'll find it for you."

"Y-you c-can't! She's d-d-rowned!" Toria bawled, great gulping sobs shaking her tiny frame. "I want Daddy!"

Harry sent the broom into a spiral, hoping against hope to see the doll floating on the surface. But there was nothing. He thought frantically. He could cast a Summoning Charm.

Before he could speak, however, a large black shape emerged from the water, Lady Snapdragon clutched inbetween its teeth. Tossing his mane, the kelpie reared and sent the doll flying through the air.

Harry reached out and caught it with the ease of long practice. "Thanks, Duncan!" he called to the water horse.

Duncan whinnied a reply before disappearing beneath the waves.

Harry cast a Drying Charm before returning Lady Snapdragon to Toria. "Here. Next time make sure you hold onto her. Why'd you bring her flying anyway?"

Toria squished the doll against her tightly. "'Cause she likes to fly too. She's my friend!"

"Oh." He wiped at his sister's tearstained face with his sleeve. "Guess we should land. You look like you need a nap. Who's supposed to be minding you?"

"Grandpa Al, but he fell asleep," she imitated the Headmaster snoring.

Harry bit back a giggle. Then he landed his broom close by where the others had the picnic blanket. Holding his sister close, he walked over to where Draco and Hermione were sitting. "Toria has something to say to you."

"I hope it's I'm sorry and I'll never do it again," Draco snapped, sounding very like Severus, if only he'd known.

"I'm sorry, Draco!" his sister said, looking as if she were about to cry again.

"You ought to be." Then he melted at the sight of her woeful face. "Next time behave." He hugged her.

"She looks like she needs a nap," observed Hermione.

Draco nodded, he'd been thinking the same. "C'mon, Harry. Let's go put her down."

"Not without a story!" Toria pleaded.

"Ha! You ought to be getting a time out instead," Nesmay said, frowning.

"No! I'll be good!" Toria detested time out, for her it was as bad as a spanking.

Together, the three older Snape siblings escorted their runaway sister back to the dungeons, where the Snape quarters were. Now only Victoria shared the apartment with her parents, as Nesmay stayed in Ravenclaw Tower with her yearmates.

Their parents were still in class, teaching, as it was only just after lunch. Draco and Harry didn't have any more classes, since they were finished with school after the Leavetaking Ceremony tomorrow, and Nesmay was done with her classes until later that night, when she had Astronomy.

"Enough, Nesmay. She said she was sorry twice," Harry said.

"If _Athair_ or _Maia_ ever knew what she'd done, they'd have a conniption."

"I know, but this once, we'll keep it between us." Harry told her. "I don't want to make Dad spank her, you know how he hates it. I think she's learned her lesson. Right, Toria?"

"Yes, Harry." The child said sincerely.

"Pushover," snorted Draco.

Harry glared at him. "I don't see _you_ running to Dad, Dragon."

Draco looked away. Though he liked to pretend to be strict, he hated it when his baby sister was in trouble, and he would not betray her, even if she deserved to be punished.

While Harry turned down the sheets and Draco warmed up a glass of milk with honey, Nesmay helped Toria out of her muddy robes and into a pair of clean jeans and a top. The little girl yawned, feeling sleepy after her escapade, but unwilling to give into the feeling and rest.

Familiar with how she always fought sleep since she turned two, her brothers and sister were armed with weapons that never failed, warm milk , comfortable pillows, and a bedtime story.

Harry tucked his sister into bed, placing Lady Snapdragon beside her. Draco levitated the small cup of warm milk with honey to her and waited while she drank it down. Then they all arranged themselves about the bed, Harry on the right side, Draco near the foot, and Nesmay beside the head.

Victoria's bed was filled with colorful griffindown pillows, arranged about her left side and head. She snuggled into them as Nesmay began to tell the story of Princess Sarina and her magical flying bed.

"A flying _bed_?" Draco scoffed. "Don't you mean a flying carpet?"

"No. My gran told me this story and she always said it was a flying bed," Nesmay argued. "The bed took Princess Sarina anywhere she wanted to go in the world, from the highest mountains to the deepest caves filled with jewels. It could go under the sea and through the frozen wastes of the north . . ."

Toria was wide-eyed, enthralled by the story. "Wow! I wanna magic bed that flies."

"There is no such thing," Draco told her.

"Wanna make a bet?" his sister queried, looking like her mother when she was testing a student. "Nessie don't lie."

"Yeah, right."

"Shut up, Draco!" Nesmay hit him in the head with a pillow. Then she raised her wand and concentrated. One of her strengths was silent magic. Though only entering her second formal year at Hogwarts, Nesmay was stronger magically than many her age. Instead of being placed with the second-years, she had been allowed to room with the fourth years, who were her own age.

Suddenly, Toria's small bed lifted off the ground and began to fly slowly through the air.

The child let out a screech of joy. "Yay! My bed's flying! Look, Draco! See? See? Beds do _too_ fly!"

"Now look what you've started," Draco glared at Nesmay.

"Oh, hush, you old geezer. You'll give yourself gray hairs before your time. This is how my gran always told the story." Nesmay said.

She flew the bed, with everyone on it, about the room for a few minutes longer before setting it back down on the ground with a thump. "And so Princess Sarina landed upon a land covered with grass and trees. It was a beautiful country, and she would have loved to stay, but just then trolls came out of the trees."

"Oh no!" yelped Toria, covering her mouth.

"But Sarina wasn't afraid. She had her trusty companion, Lady Snapdragon to defend her," Nesmay went on. "Snapdragon was a _kin-sa-dor_ master and nobody could beat her. She gave those smelly trolls what for all right. With a _whack_! And a _whomp!_ And a _smash_!"

Grinning deviously, Nesmay slammed Draco and Harry in the head with pillows.

"That's it! You're dead, brat!" Draco shouted, grabbing a large pillow and smacking Nesmay in the face with it.

Harry joined in, smirking, and soon the three were in a riotous pillow fight.

"I wanna play!" cried Toria, she stood up and grabbed her pillow, hitting Draco in the arm.

Draco shoved her back and she fell on the bed. But she got right up and swung at Harry, shrieks of merriment coming from her.

He gave ground before her and Nesmay pummeled Draco relentlessly until he withdrew.

"We won! We won!" Toria yelled, clapping her hands.

"And once the princess and Lady Snapdragon had defeated the nasty trolls and sent them crying home to their mummies," Nesmay grinned wickedly. "They flew off to a green jungle, where there was a fiery mountain and a great green dragon that lived there. The dragon tried to eat the princess . . ."

Taking his cue, Draco quickly Transfigured his robes into his old dragon costume Hermione had made for him years before on Halloween. "Rrrawwr!" He pretended to try and bite Nesmay.

Toria screamed, half-frightened and half in play. "Help! Ahhh! Help!"

The door to the bedroom burst open.

"What in Merlin's name is going on in here?" demanded an irate Severus.

"Daddy! Save me! The dragon's gonna _eat_ me!" Toria shrilled, pointing at Draco.

Severus raised an eyebrow. Then he smirked wickedly. "We'll see about that," he said, then Summoned an extra large pillow from his bedroom.

He walloped Draco hard across the back. "Take that, you evil beast!"

"Dad?" Draco yelped, turning around. "How'd you get here?"

"I walked. I could hear Toria screaming from my office," he answered. "Why are you having a pillow fight in the middle of the day?"

"Uh, it's part of the story," Draco coughed.

"What story?"

"My bedtime story!" chimed in Toria. "Nesmay telled me it. 'Bout a princess an' some trolls, an' Lady Snapdragon that kicked those bad ole trolls behinds like Mama kicked the frost giant's."

"I see. But aren't bedtime stories supposed to make you sleepy?" queried her father, moving to sit beside his youngest.

"Uh . . . not yet, Daddy . . .We gotta kill the bad wizards. **Shazam**!" Toria pointed a finger at Harry, who pretended to die. Then she spun around, whacking Severus in the head with her pillow.

"Victoria Juliana Snape! Settle down!" Severus ordered sternly. "This is nap time, not a free for all!"

Everyone froze.

"I never would have guessed," said Sarai, leaning on the doorframe, her green eyes alight with amusement. "Having fun, Sev?"

"Mama!" Toria sprang off the bed and ran to clutch Sarai around the leg. "Daddy ruined my story!"

"I did no such thing," Severus defended. "Get back in bed."

Toria hid her face in Sarai's tunic. "Nooo! I don't wanna take a nap. I wanna play!"

Familiar with this tactic, her mother scooped her up in her arms. "Victoria, it's time for all little girls to go to sleep, so you can grow up big and strong."

"Like you n' Lady Snapdragon?" Victoria asked.

"Yes."

Toria scowled mulishly, looking exactly like a certain potions professor. "But I'm not tired."

"Oh, I think you are. Why don't you lie next to your father and listen to him finish the story?" suggested Sarai, knowing full well her daughter was fighting sleep.

Toria shook her head. "He don't know how it ends, it's Nesmay's story."

"Dad knows how all the stories end," Harry interjected. "Because he's told them all before."

"An' he's the smartest man in the world!" crowed Toria.

Severus looked both proud and uncomfortable.

Draco elbowed Harry and whispered, "She's his daughter, all right. Knows just how to butter him up, the scamp."

Toria let Sarai put her back on the bed and tuck her in. She cuddled next to Severus.

"Little conniver!" her mother chuckled, and kissed the tip of her nose. "I hope this next one isn't such a clever boots." She straightened, putting a hand over her still flat belly.

"Next one?" Nesmay repeated wonderingly.

Draco gasped. "Mum, are you . . .?"

"You mean you're going to have another?" Harry stared at her.

"Sarai, you're expecting? After all this time?" Severus queried, looking dazed.

"Yes. I'm finally pregnant again. This time, it's a single baby. A son."

"How . . . do you know that?" asked her husband.

"Poppy confirmed it," replied Sarai, beaming. "I was going to wait and tell you after supper tonight, but . . . this seemed like a better time. Are you happy, Sev?"

He rose and pulled her into his arms. "Always, love. When are you due?"

"Around November," she answered, then she kissed him.

Severus felt a familiar heat flare within him, and would have kissed his wife for much longer, but a child's innocent giggle interrupted him. He reluctantly drew away, whispering, "Later," into Sarai's pointed ear. Then he turned and addressed his small daughter. "Soon, Toria, you'll have a new baby brother."

"Where? I don't see no baby." Toria said, looking around.

"You mean, you don't see _any_ baby," corrected her father, returning to his previous seat.

"Where is he?"

"He's inside me," Sarai said, sitting down on the bed next to Severus. "He's too little to play with you yet, he needs to grow inside my tummy awhile longer."

Toria looked perplexed. "Why?"

"Because that's how babies grow at first. When he's ready, he'll be born."

"When?"

"Not for many months."

"That's _forever_!"

They all laughed at that statement.

"Before you know it, he'll be causing havoc like this one," Severus said, and tweaked his daughter's nose. The prospect of a new son filled him with delight and a little concern as well. He prayed nothing would happen with this baby. "What story were you telling?" he asked Nesmay.

"Princess Sarina and the flying bed."

"Ah. Now then, hush and listen. After Sarina defeated the dragon, she went home with Lady Snapdragon to rule her kingdom. She married a very smart prince who loved her even when she annoyed him to no end, and they had several clever mischievous children and ruled their kingdom wisely and well. The end."

Toria shifted and yawned. "Tell me another one, Daddy."

"One more. Then you go to sleep." Severus ordered.

Toria nodded. "'kay."

Severus thought for a moment. "Once upon a time, there was a young man named Gwydion, he was the son of the great wizard Merlin, and he fell in love with a fairy princess named Alshiara. To prove that he loved Alshiara beyond measure, he built a beautiful manor for her. It was a very special house, because it dwelled in two worlds, that of Fairy and that of Earth. The house was called Prince Manor."

"Like ours?" Toria murmured, her eyes starting to close.

"Yes. For this is the story of our family, and the manor is where it all began . . ." Severus spoke in a silken whisper, telling the story of Prince Manor to his little daughter. It was a story he would repeat many times as she and her brother grew, instilling in them a love of their home and family, both mortal and fae, who had given them a great gift of magic and longevity. His older children knew the story by heart, but they never tired of hearing it again. They sprawled about his feet, listening to him tell the tale of duty and honor, of epic battles won and lost, darkest sorrow, and love that would last beyond death. Someday they would tell it to their children, and their children's children, so the legend of Prince Manor and its heirs would never be forgotten.

**And so we come to the end, at long last, of this tale. I hope you have enjoyed the journey I took you on along with the Snape family. It's been a great pleasure to write this tale and I'm sorry to bring it to a close. Perhaps someday I shall write more, and let you see what else happens with Harry, Draco, Nesmay, Toria, and the new baby, as well as Severus and Sarai. I left a few strings dangling on purpose, in case I want to return someday and tell more stories. Suggestions for new stories in this Au are always welcome! I also have a request, if any artist reads this would you mind making a picture for me of Toria walking to Sev in the Great Hall, it doesn't have to contain anyone save those two, I really want to draw that scene, but I can't draw people. So please, if anyone has time or anything . . . please let me know. You can PM me and I will give give you my email. Thanks!**

**But right now I have other stories I'm working on and trying to finish. Such as Irresistible Chemistry, Stormcaller, Common Interests, Cursed, Apothecary Knows Best, and Out of the Ashes. Please join me on one of those if you'd like, now that this one is finished. I would like to thank all of you who read and reviewed this tale, know that I appreciated all of your comments, they kept me going, even if I couldn't always respond to everyone. **

**-Snapegirlkmf**


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